The Canadian Connection
by Twoformemories
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is suave, confident, brash, and one of the best agents the CIA has to offer. Matthew Williams is none of these things, too bad after a case of mistaken identity he's the one with the briefcase everyone is after. Secret Agent, AU.
1. Koreans, Americans and Russians oh my!

**I do not own Hetalia.**

"Lighten up Kiku, order something."

"No thank you Alfred-san, it would be wasteful as I do not know if we can stay long enough to receive let alone eat anything." The raven coloured bowl cut hair bowed slightly in apology to the man across from him, his hair obscuring his black eyes before he raised his head again to regard his companion.

The bespectacled man across from Kiku scoffed as he ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Whatever, he made the meeting so he'll pay. Just order something." Alfred commented, jerking his thumb in the direction of a brunette wearing a casual suit seated in the third chair around their table. Kiku sighed at his partner's lack of manners before picking up the menu, leafing through the two pages which were all the quaint cafe the two are seated at has to offer.

"There's nothing I would like to eat in here." Kiku commented, hoping to shut the American at his side up.

"See, we should have gone to McDonalds." Alfred whined at the brunette, who just scowled at him irritably.

"This is not for socialising. We need to discuss you're next mission." Alfred sighed before slamming his head unto the table with an exaggerated groan.

"Doesn't mean we can't go somewhere where they at least serve burgers." Was the muffled retort from the sulking American. The brunette sighed and rubbed his temples stressfully. Kiku gave a sympathetic look to the stressed man before putting a hand on Alfred's slumped shoulder.

"We can go somewhere so you can get a burger later Alfred-san." Alfred peeked at Kiku.

"McDonalds?" Kiku exhaled slowly in depression at the coming prospect.

"Very well."

"Yay!" Alfred exclaimed, beaming as brightly as the sun.

"Anyway," the brunette interjected, receiving an irritated glare from Alfred, "you still have a job to do." The brown haired man slid a folder over to Kiku, who opened it and began going through the various files contained within. "The target is a briefcase, it was taken from one of our agents earlier this week. However, the individual who has it has been uncovered and we hope that you can get it back."

"Why do we have to do it?" Alfred whined as he sipped the coffee, making a disgusted face afterwards. "Shoulda got some coke." He muttered. Kiku ignored him, instead turning a page in the folder. His calm mask slipped slightly as he read the document, black eyes widening in surprise and horror.

The brunette watched the expression before speaking aloud, knowing which page the Japanese man had landed on. "Yes, the case in question has information on nearly every agent the CIA has in the field, including you two." He added pointedly. Alfred seemed to have woken up from his pout and was now paying close attention. Kiku glanced from the papers to the brunette, his mask slipping further to reveal a look of absolute horror.

"So, what do we need to do exactly?" Kiku inquired, regaining his mask enough to keep his voice calm.

"Well, the individual who has the case has agreed to give it to us in exchange for amnesty for himself and a friend of his." Alfred rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair.

"So why do you need us to do it, any idiot can pick up the damn thing." Kiku gave an admonishing look which was of course ignored but nodded as well, it was hardly a task that required two of the best agents the agency had. The brown haired man nodded, surprising both though Alfred didn't particularly care.

"That is true. However," he added with an upraised finger, "we aren't the only ones who know about it." Kiku raised an eyebrow in curious caution.

"Who else?"

"Ivan Braginsky." Alfred shot up, his eyes narrowing in hatred at the name.

"How did he find out?" Alfred hissed his hands curling into fists on the table top. The brunette shook his head, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"We don't know, but he's after it so you two have to move fast. The target found out Braginsky knows and has gone to ground, you two need to locate him." Alfred unclenched his hands before rising from his chair, Kiku obediently following after him as he gathered up the papers from the folder, slipping the documents beneath an arm in preparation for their exit.

"Where?" Alfred demanded.

"Moscow." Alfred let his jaw drop in shock.

"Why the fuck is it there." He furiously demanded. The brunette held up his hands in defence.

"The carrier chose the location; he didn't want to leave his friend and argued that it was likely the last place Braginsky would look for him." Alfred scowled but didn't argue. Rather, he grabbed his bomber jacket from where it had hung on the back of his chair and slipped it own.

"We'll get it, and if I see Ivan-."

"The case is what you're after." The Brunette reminded him, interrupting the blonde quickly. "Don't get sidetracked." Alfred's mouth straightened into a thin line before he gave a curt nod, spinning on his heel and leaving the cafe followed shortly after by Kiku.

The race had begun.

()()()

The pale haired man deposited the receiver back into its case, a childlike smile stretching the corners of his lips causing the blonde haired man wearing glasses and green uniform working the listening device nearby quiver in fear. The pale gray haired man noticed this and let out a slight laugh that suspiciously sounded like kolkolkol.

"Don't worry Eduard, you did excellent job."

"T-thank you M-Mr. Braginsky." Eduard stuttered, his shaking subsiding somewhat. The large Russian gave another strange laugh before returning his gaze to the window of the hotel room, observing the small cafe across the street. He let his smile grow a little wider as a blonde haired American and Japanese man left the establishment, hailing down a taxi once they reached the street.

Waiting until the small vehicle had moved out of sight and the brunette had left the cafe as well the Russian rose from the cheap hotel chair he had dragged over to the window, the bottom of his massive beige coat falling just above his black boots. The blonde gave a small start as Ivan moved towards him, flinching as the gloved hand patted his head.

"Pack up quickly Eduard; we are going home to mother Russia." Eduard gulped before hastening to comply, taking apart the various instruments he had been using to overhear the conversation across the street for his 'employer'.

Ivan watched for a moment before giving another dark chuckle. At that, Eduard moved twice as fast and soon had two large inconspicuous suitcases at his sides, rushing out the door that Ivan had left open after departing.

()()()

"Moscow? Why Moscow?" Matthew inquired, looking to his roommate curiously.

"Why? Why not da-zee!" Matthew rolled his eyes at the display of his Korean roommate. The pair was seated in their shared dorm room, each on their own pair of beds. The room was decorated with two computers and desks, various other items atypical of your average grad students such as old shirts and pants lying around along with a ridiculous amount of soft drinks (Matthew had stubbornly refused Yong-soo's insistence that he should be allowed Red Bull while anywhere near the Canadian) littered the floor.

"Well, for starters it's halfway around the world. And why would you even want to go to Russia anyway?" Matthew asked as he lay down on his bed, looking at the Korean from an upside down perspective just for the hell of it, causing his blue jeans and red hoodie to rustle slightly while his round framed glasses falling from his face to land on the barely visible carpet revealing his eyes of an oddly violet hue.

"Well, I've never been so what the hell! We need to celebrate for graduating anyway." Matthew sighed and ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair in exasperation at his friend's attitude.

"But really, isn't it kind of spur of the moment?" Yong-soo just continued to jump on his bed, as it wouldn't be his for much longer hence the two suitcases lying in the corner of the room along with several empty cardboard boxes, his usually straight black hair aside from a single errant curl much like Matthew's bouncing on his head. He was wearing a bright yellow t-shirt and black jeans over his thin but somewhat toned frame.

"That's what makes it fun!"

"... Your logic is disturbingly coercive; I think I may be hanging around you too much." Yong-soo stopped bouncing, adopting a puppy dog look that was damn near irresistible to anyone.

"B-but we have so much fun. Ever since we first met, don't you love being around me anymore." He gave an elaborate sniffle, prompting Matthew to roll his eyes sarcastically.

"Yes Yong-soo, I still like hanging around you." It was true though, ever since they had first met during high school they had been nearly inseparable, mainly because Yong-soo could be somewhat clingy, much like a leech. Also, one of the most effective methods to prompt him to release you form a hug was to poke him with something hot.

Matthew didn't mind though, it had been thanks to the exuberant Korean that he had been brought out of his shy shell he had inhabited for the majority of his life even if only a little.

Of course, first impression were everything and Yong-soo had made quite one when they had met.

_Matthew stood before the doors of the local high school, a look that could only be described as terror absolute slapped on his shy face behind his wide rimmed glasses. He looked back for his fathers car, only to see that the black vehicle had already left. He turned back to the double doors that led to the institution, eyes widening as the entrance of the school resembled more a gaping mawready to devour him than anything else to the nervous boy._

_Matthew gulped nervously as he re-adjusted his backpack on his shoulder as though the few more seconds he stalled gave him the courage necessary to take the first step into a new school and new life._

_With a shuddery inhale, he took a hesitant step forward._

"_You're breasts belong to Korea da-zee!" Someone behind Matthew exclaimed, a pair of arms wrapping around him and groping his chest._

"_E-eh!" Matthew squeaked, his face going beet red while he flailed his arms around helplessly, completely unsure of how to react in the situation he found himself in._

"_Hehe, just kidding." An amused voice informed the Canadian before he was released. Matthew spun around, his eyes wide in surprise as he clutched his hands together before his chest in a misguided attempt at protecting himself further._

_Standing in front of Matthew was a grinning Asian boy, his hand clasped behind him as he bounced on the balls of his feet._

"_W-wh-what w-was th-that for?" Mathew finally managed to squeak out, taking a cautionary step back. The Asian just widened his grin as he assessed the reserved other boy._

"_You looked sad, and I can't stand sad people." Matthew blinked at him owlishly._

"_E-eh?"_

"_So I decided to cheer you up!" Matthew stared at the boy for another moment before looking down to where his fingers were fiddling with the strap of his backpack._

"_U-um, t-thank you I-I guess." Matthew mumbled. He squeaked when an arm wrapped itself around him, dragging him towards the school._

"_Great! I'm Im Yong-soo, do you wanna be my friend." Matthew was caught off guard, his head whirling with the ball of energy the raven haired boy was radiating off of him._

"_U-uh, I-I guess." Yong-soo beamed brightly._

"_Great, what's' your name? Do you like video games? Do you have any brothers or sisters? I have both; they can be a kind of a pain." Matthew let a shy smile move across his face at the other boy's barrage of questions, the interest being shown a pleasant change from the almost non-existent attention he had been subjected to at home._

The pair had been great friends throughout high school and had remained close, even going to the same college and becoming roommates until graduation, which brought them to their current dilemma.

"Oh, all right but I'll have to call my dad and tell him." Yong-soo scoffed and rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"Why bother, it's not like he'd even remember where you're going after a week." Matthew sighed before sitting up to face his friend at a less awkward angle.

"I guess but I still feel like I have to. So when do you want to go?" Matthew asked. Yong-soo grinned and looked at the calendar, one of the few items remaining on the dorm wall since they had begun to clear out of the room in preparation for the next occupants.

"How about tomorrow, two pm." Yong-soo looked back to the Canadian who was now eying him suspiciously. "... What?"

"That's... unusually precise." Yong-soo glanced to the side, a sly smile working its way onto his lips. Matthew watched the smile forming before sighing, slapping his palms over his face in an attempt to hide from the truth. "Oh for god's sake... How long?" Yong-soo turned to face Matthew, no longer even bothering to hide his smile as he whipped out a pair of plane tickets from his jeans pocket.

"Two weeks! I bought them with my last pay check; it was a great deal Da-zee!"

"So, let me get this straight, you bought two tickets to Moscow on the assumption that I would go with you." Matthew exclaimed, waving his arms to further demonstrate how absolutely ridiculous the prospect was. Yong-soo just waved it off casually with a wide smile.

"Now what made you think I assumed you would go?" Matthew sighed in resignation, flopping back on the bed to stare at the ceiling with a pout. It was true, of course. Even had he said no, he would in all honesty have ended up going with the Korean anyway; Yong-soo just had that kind of effect on people and had no qualms about doing so to his Canadian friend.

"Well, I guess. What's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words.

**Other famous last words include 'it could never happen to me' and 'huh, that was surprising'. So, this is my first try at an AU story, I had a few ideas bouncing around but this seemed the most believable one. I really wanted to write something involving a mistaken identity thing with Alfred and Matthew, it was just too perfect for them. I thought about doing a sort of prince and the pauper thing with Alfred being the prince but decided I didn't feel like doing it (yet) and a Catch Me if You Can spoof but it didn't pan out.**

**Charles: So you decided to write something involving spies?**

**Ya, so what?**

**Charles: Nothing specific. Moron.**

**Riiight. Kiku and Alfred's handler is just some OC, his sole purpose is to send them on their way. I like Korea, he's really weird but nice and I can see him just latching on to Canada since he seems like the type to willingly put up with him. On that note please feed my ego by dropping me a review, he's a gluttonous bastard but I love him all the same.**


	2. From Moscow With Hate

**I do not own Hetalia.**

"I hate this city. You can practically feel the communism in the air, like a smog." Kiku nodded distractedly, not really paying attention to the American. Ever since they had arrived in Moscow he had been saying essentially the same thing over and over again. Kiku sighed as the American began ranting about the difference between capitalism and communism and how the former was superior to the latter much to the Japanese man's chagrined.

"-and the sick bastards, I mean no competition is bad for people. God damn scheming communist bastards-." Finally, Kiku could stand no more; he was only human after all.

"Alfred-san, Russia is no longer communist, it's capitalist now." America scoffed and waved the comment off, the pair pausing on the Moscow street corner as they waited for a light to change.

"Well sure they say that. But," he hissed, closing the distance between their faces with an upraised finger, "you can see it in their beady Russian eyes, they still have it etched in their souls." Kiku gave an apologetic look to a Russian couple standing nearby giving them an offended look. The pair huffed and sped away from them across the street as soon as the light changed, quickly outpacing the two agents walking across the street as well in their haste to leave the rude American.

"You are being very judgemental Alfred-san." Kiku admonished, his black shoes crunching in synch with his companion on the slightly thin layer of whore frost on the pavement.

"They remember it though; don't let your guard down." Alfred advised. Kiku sighed softly but, instead of arguing he did as he often did when the American was proving irksome and merely ended the line of conversation.

"Of course Alfred-san, I will be sure to take your advice." Alfred grinned widely, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

"Fantastic. Remember, a hero is always on guard."

"Of course Alfred-san." Kiku responded diplomatically. They were silent for a time after that, both keeping step with each other though Kiku had to put a bit of extra effort in to keep up with the taller American's long strides. "How exactly are we to locate Felix-san?" Kiku inquired after a moment, watching the blonde closely.

"Well, I already contacted the usual sources. They'll get it to us eventually." Kiku sighed at the Americans trusting nature before continuing their walk until the American abruptly paused in front of a cafe, the Russian Cyrillic writing obscuring the name of the establishment to Kiku, only the tables visible in the window informed him of the nature of the business within. Alfred paused before the cafe, Kiku pausing beside him and looking up curiously.

"We're here." Alfred said cheerfully. Kiku raised an eyebrow curiously at the jocular tone used, particularly after the Americans somewhat loud objection to anything Russian, particularly as the cafe had a look of the archaic Moscow about it being constructed of stone bricks and painted red. A massive window faced the street they were on showing the inside with an overhang of stone etched with crosses hanging shortly over the window.

"Come on Kiku, we can't wait forever." Kiku was jarred from his observations to see his blonde partner holding the glass door that led into the cafe. Jumping slightly, Kiku trotted forward until he had entered the cafe, Alfred closing the glass windowed door behind them. Before Kiku could even try and look for a table, he found himself dragged by Alfred to a booth, obscured from the rest of the customers.

"I always have something here whenever I'm in Moscow." Alfred informed Kiku with a grin. Kiku arched an eyebrow curiously at his companion but the American didn't elaborate. Instead, he waved over a nearby waitress who jogged over quickly with a pair of menus. Alfred shot the woman a smile as she handed them the menus before chatting her up, Kiku tuning them out in favour of opening his menu and examining the items, his eyes growing wide when he observed a small note tucked into the menu.

On the note was a street address.

Kiku glanced at the waitress who appeared to be ignoring him in favour of chatting up the American. Realizing she was likely not the source of the paper, he glanced to where the entrance of the kitchen was, noting a man looking across the floor directly at him. The man had brown hair and green eyes, a worried expression plastered on his face as he gave an almost imperceptible nod to the Japanese man before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Realization dawned over Kiku then. Quickly, he glanced back to the flirting pair before looking back to the slip of paper and memorizing the address, slipping it into his sleeve as inconspicuously as possible after accomplishing this.

"...So anyway, do you guys have burgers here, I could reeeeally go for one." The American gave the waitress a look full of such hopefulness that the woman nodded vigorously to him.

"Da_,_ I mean, yes we do." The woman immediately reverted back to English having fallen back unto her native tongue in the wake of the blonds face. Alfred sighed in relief, visibly sagging in his seat.

"Thank you, could I get three of those?" The woman looked at him curiously before turning to Kiku albeit reluctantly, her face having fallen into the polite smile she had mastered over years of working with people she honestly couldn't care to genuinely smile for.

"And you sir?" She asked in English, reasoning the Japanese man likely understood the language considering his company.

"The same." Kiku said distractedly, still going over the address in his mind. The waitress gave him a strange look before shrugging in disinterest, turning back to the American with a seductive smile.

"I'll be right back." She promised with a wink before leaving the table. Alfred watched the swaying of the woman's hips for awhile before turning back to Kiku with a cocky grin.

"So I was just thinking, maybe after we eat we should get a couple of rooms at a hotel. I saw a nice one down the street." Kiku sighed, how predictable. On the bright side, at least he had thought in advance of getting more than one room. The last time Alfred had picked up a woman he had neglected to inform Kiku and they had rented only one room. The night had been decidedly awkward for him primarily because Alfred had claimed it would be 'rude' to send her home.

Kiku had slept in the bathtub that night, and the walls had been very, very thin.

"I would love to Alfred-san but we should leave as soon as possible." Kiku explained stiffly, giving the American a meaningful look. Alfred raised his eyebrows in interest before smirking confidently.

"Really? Where to?" Kiku pulled the paper out of his sleeve and slid it across to the American, who took it and examined it with interest for a moment.

"Who gave this to you?" Alfred asked suspiciously, eying the slip of paper like it was volatile.

"A brown haired green eyed man, he looked very nervous." Kiku responded immediately, describing the fellow he had seen in the window of the kitchen. Alfred brightened considerably at the description given.

"Awesome that was Toris, Felix's friend. This'll be a cake walk if Felix stays put for awhile." Japan nodded to eh American before beginning to slide from his chair in order to leave the cafe and accomplish the mission they had been sent here for as quickly as they could. "But burgers first." Kiku sighed before nodding again and returning to his seat; at least Alfred hadn't persisted in not being 'rude' to their waitress and insist they rent the room first.

()()()

"Dammit Yong-soo, you said we were going to see the sights!" Matthew shouted at his friend, but with his constantly low tone of voice it was more of speaking tone for anyone else. The Korean just smiled mischievously at his companion, which was not exactly comforting.

"What's wrong, I thought you would be happy?" Yong-soo grinned at the fuming Canadian before him, who narrowed his eyes in suppressed fury.

"You said we were going to see the sights, but you take us to a freaking strip club." He hissed to the other college grad. Yong-soo smiled innocently, an expression completely at odds with their current argument and the cause of it.

"Ya, but think of the sights we'll see da-zee!" Yong-soo replied easily. Matthew turned slightly red in either embarrassment or rage, the Korean was unsure before opening his mouth, clamping it closed immediately afterwards without a word exchanged. Matthew closed his eyes and began to take slow, deep breaths in an attempt to reign in his urge to kill his former roommate.

Yong-soo turned his head slightly as he waited for the Canadian to regain his temper, examining the building they were arguing about.

A huge neon sign in Cyrillic was elevated over a wide brick building, various framed posters depicting scantily clad figures (the distance making it difficult for the Korean man to identify anything aside from an ambiguous blob) lined the wall of the building with a large metal door set at the end of the line of posters. A massive Russian bouncer stood beside the door stoically, eying all the men who entered critically. Yong-soo had only told the Canadian that the building before them was a strip club after they had arrived, or at least that's what the Asian believed that the establishment to be if the translation the Russian student he had met in college had provided for the trip beforehand could be believed.

"I am not going in there." Matthew finally informed Yong-soo, who turned back to him with a surprised expression on his face.

"Y-you mean you d-don't want to see naked ladies?" Matthew flushed slightly at the question and the expression on his companions face to that of dramatic tragic surprise.

"N-no, I, its j-just- don't change the subject." He finally retorted to his friend.

"Fine," Yong-soo huffed slightly, "but it's only fair if we both take turns choosing where we want to go. So," Yong-soo quickly continued holding a hand up with an index finger upright, "how about we each get to choose somewhere to go, and since we're already here..." He trailed off meaningfully, to which the Canadian glared hatefully at the former college student before sighing in defeat, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

"I hate you, so much right now. Let's just go." Yong-soo grinned widely before slinging an arm around his companion, leading the depressed Canadian toward the entrance of the strip club with a cheery demeanour contrasting harshly with the depressed aura that hung around the man in his arm.

"Great, and we can go to that church you wanted to see after the strip club, it'll be fun da-zee."

"There's something seriously wrong with you, I hope you're aware of that." Matthew informed Yong-soo following his declaration of comparing their destinations as though they were equal. "And I swear to god if you get chucked in prison for groping one of the stripper's chests I'm not bailing you out." He added as an afterthought, well aware of the other mans tendency to ignore personal space and societal constraints on intimate physical touching.

"Oh come on. But how else will they know how much I appreciate the female form?" Yong-soo whined as they neared the bouncer.

"I don't know, give them American currency." Matthew bit out, blushing a little darker as they neared the door and intimidating bouncer that guarded it like a stone trap carved in the form of a man just waiting to spring on the two unsuspecting individuals approaching him.

"Huh," Yong-soo gained a thoughtful expression, "I guess that could work. Hey, what do you Canadians do at strip clubs because, I mean, you don't have paper singles. Do you just flick loonies at them or something and there's, like, a funnel in the floor that collects them? Because I don't know if I would go all the way to giving fives just to make sure you're using something you can stick in the skimpy clothes." Yong-soo asked seriously, or at least as seriously as the free spirit could be. This facade was lost slightly when he smirked at the embarrassed blush on the Canadian.

"I-I don't know the proper etiquette for strip clubs." Yong-soo sighed regretfully.

"Pity. Why hello there." Yong-soo brightly greeted the intimidating Russian standing guard at the door, a thick beard and mirrored lenses hiding the man's expression from the pair. "Me and my partner here wanted to come in and see someone." Yong-soo put special emphasis on the see, to which Matthew groaned in reply.

"I'm not going to heroically rescue you from this guy if he kicks you out." He hissed to the other man. The bouncer's eyebrows rose in interest at those words before opening the door for the pair, giving a stiff bow.

"Oh, thank you." Yong-soo brightly exclaimed, Matthew uttering similar words as he was dragged into the club by the Asian.

As soon as the pair had gone through the door, the bouncer brought one hand to his pocket and pulled forth a cell phone, flicking it open and hurriedly dialling a number.

"They just went inside, a blond American wearing glasses who goes on about being a hero and a black haired Asian who called him his partner. Uhuh. Right, good luck." With that, the bouncer lowered his hand and resumed his stoic vigil over the entrance to the strip club.

Inside the club was like stepping into another world, the thumping vibrations of a song with heavy bass pounded against the pair while strange multicoloured lights flashed randomly, nearly blinding the violet eyed individual and his brown eyed companion before they finally managed to adjust to the menagerie of colours. A band played in the back on a stage surrounded with speakers.

"Wow, there are a lot of guys here." Yong-soo pointed out cheerfully.

"Ya..." Matthew agreed, there were quite a few men in the club. Be it at a bar tucked away in the corner, various tables and the like surrounding a large dance floor or on the dance floor itself there were men everywhere. It didn't look like a strip club, more like just a regular club. Still, Matthew didn't think he had seen a single individual of the female persuasion since... arriv...ing.

"Oh my god." Matthew whispered to himself, his face paling dramatically before heating up in embarrassment, Yong-soo looking to him curiously at the exclamation of horror.

"What?" Matthew grabbed his friend's collar, yanking his head closer so that he could be heard whispering over the loud music and scattered conversations permeating the air like a dense fog.

"You idiot, this isn't a strip club." He hissed. Yong-soo raised his onyx eyebrows curiously and surprise at the normally shy Canadians sudden action.

"It's not?"

"No, it's a club, a gay club." He whispered, even lower than his normal speaking voice. Yong-soo's brown eyes widened significantly before taking a look around them at the fact that yes, there were no women here and yes, there were only men there, often in skin tight outfits grinding against each other on the dance floor.

"Oh... huh, you know, I was wondering why the bouncer let us in without asking anything. He must of thought you were cute." Matthew glared at his friend as he teased him lightly, trying to ignore the way his face heated slightly at the comment.

"W-whatever, what the hell do we do now?" Yong-soo hummed in thought before glancing to his companion.

"Well, does this still count as my choice for a place to go?"

"Yes, yes it does." Matthew deadpanned his companion, who hummed again in acknowledgement before grabbing the Canadians hand and dragging him towards the bar. "W-what are you doing?" Matthew demanded incredulously, Yong-soo just grinned back.

"If this is my turn than we may as well get a drink." He cheerfully explained to the blond, who glared at the raven haired college graduate spitefully. He knew what the Korean was doing, he was trying to play chicken and make him uncomfortable enough to make him give up his turn for the next place to go, leaving it open for Yong-soo to make the next choice. No freaking way was he going to give in, he wanted to see the Red Square damn it and considering that this was where Yong-soo dragged him on his first try of finding somewhere to go they would probably end up in a crack house next with guns pointed at them. Of course, had they known what the events of this night would promote they would have very likely of taken the crack house.

So, albeit reluctantly, Matthew decided to stick it out until the Korean became bored and gave up which, considering Yong-soo's short attention span, shouldn't take too long.

Hopefully.

"Sounds good." Matthew replied with a knowing smirk. The friends glared at each other for a moment, both understanding that the true nature of the Koreans plan before Yong-soo smirked back at the Canadian, the pair going over to the bar before sitting down beside each other.

The bartender glanced at them but, seeing that they were busy glaring at each other he shrugged and went back to customers who actually appeared interested in becoming inebriated in the near future.

"Why hello there." Matthew and Yong-soo turned away from their staring contest to see a smiling blonde with green eyes sitting beside Matthew, fluttering his eyelashes at him. The pair stared at the blonde or, more specifically, how much make up and the fact that he was wearing what appeared to be a pink dress on his clearly masculine form.

"Um, hello. I-It's nice to meet you." Matthew responded weakly after a moment of trying to reacquire his wits, the attire of the man before him scattering them like birds after a gunshot.

The blond smiled before leaning forward so that they were closer and whispered just low enough so that both Matthew and Yong-soo could hear. "So, Alfred, is this like the famous Kiku hmm?" Matthew's eyebrows rose slightly before he turned to the Korean, who shrugged in wonderment. Who the hell were Alfred and Kiku?

"I-I'm sorry you must have us confused, my names Matthew and this is Yong-soo." The blonde examined them for a minute with his green eyes before chuckling to himself.

"Right, aliases," Matthew strained to hear what the man before him had just whispered to himself before he spoke again, "of course. My mistake. My name's Feliks, it's, like, really nice to meet you."

"Y-ya, nice to meet you too."

"So, how would you like to go somewhere more totally private?" Feliks asked with a wink, causing Matthew's cheeks to immediately flush a slight red in embarrassment as his inherent shyness kicked in. Yong-soo giggled behind him and Matthew cursed in his mind. He was stuck for something to do. On the one hand, he could always just refuse but that would be really rude and likely hurt the cross dressers feelings, something the Canadian tried to avoid whenever possible. Yong-soo gave a particularly loud snort of amusement from behind him, prompting Matthew to recall what the Asian had told the bouncer on their way in.

"Well, I would but I'm here with my partner." Matthew informed the blond, smirking when Yong-soo abruptly choked on thin air from behind him. Felix shot a look at the Asian before winking again at Matthew with a coy smile, confusing the Canadian even further.

"That's ok; I was really expecting you to bring him along anyway." Matthew sucked in a breath of air in surprise, his eyes going wide in shock.

"We'd love to." Matthew whipped his head around to stare in surprise at Yong-soo, who had recovered and was smiling at the blonde before turning that smile to the Canadian, who was now glaring at him.

"Great, come on I totally know somewhere secluded." Matthew sighed and reluctantly stood, grimacing at Yong-soo who now had a somewhat apprehensive look on his face once he realized the Canadian wasn't going to give in. They both followed Feliks away from the bar and dance floor towards a door hidden in the shadows of one of the corners. Pushing it open, Feliks ushered them both into a hall filled with wires and cables from the stage, the trio picking their way over them carefully lest they unplug something important and bring down the wrath of the overweight yet still strangely intimidating roadies who maintained the electronics of the club in their many sullen numbers.

"In here." Feliks whispered to the pair, pulling them into a room full of switches and gauges. Once the door had been closed behind them, Feliks sidled up to Matthew who squeaked and tried to scoot away to little avail as he felt a lever jam into his back, informing him he had reached the wall of the confined space. "I have something totally amazing for you." Feliks whispered, his hand sliding into Matthews and holding him still.

"M-maybe Yong-soo w-would enjoy I-it even m-mo-more." Matthew stuttered, sending a pleading look over to the Asian in the corner who just grinned evilly at his friends awkward an unfortunate predicament.

"Nope, I like to watch." Yong-soo sang, his shit eating grin on full blast once he realized that he was not going to be victimized by their unfortunate circumstance they found themselves in. Matthew glared before Feliks leaned in even closer, prompting him to shut his eyes tightly, stubbornly refusing to protest and attempt to leave lest Yong-soo be given the right to decide their next destination.

There was the sound of a lock clicking before the Canadian felt the presence before him retreat. Matthew opened his eyes tentatively to observe with surprise Feliks having retreated and fiddling with a briefcase. It was then that he felt something cold around his wrist. Matthew brought his wrist up to his eyes only to see a metal cuff attached to his wrist, a cable leading from the metal bind to the suitcase Feliks was fiddling with.

"Eh?" Matthew asked curiously, shooting Yong-soo a glance, who just shrugged in mystification.

"There, it's all set up. Now, if someone tries to, like, remove the case or stuff from you the bomb inside will detonate." Feliks explained, a beep resounding from the metal briefcase, its silver colour shining in the light of the enclosed room. Matthew stopped examining the very pretty shiny object once the full weight of what Feliks had said hit him.

"Eh!"

"Ok Alfred, listen up even though you're pretty bad at it. A guy named Ludwig has the key to get the case off. He's in Germany waiting for you. I got these totally great guys to help you out as like an escort and stuff so that Ivan will have tons more trouble following you. I'm going to get Toris out of here after you two leave until you finally get off your ass and get me that amnesty." Felix said casually, pulling out a makeup kit as he talked and applying some more eye liner.

"Um, I-I don-." Matthew was cut off when the polish man's cell phone went off, his hand shooting to his pocket and yanking it out before he held out a hand for Matthew to stop talking.

"You're talking to Feliks." The blonde sang cheerfully into the phone, clearly pleased to have offloaded the briefcase to someone else, said individual was now staring at the briefcase in horror before trying to pull it off, Yong-soo having rushed forward to help.

"Ow, not so hard."

"Wow, it's really on there tight." Yong-soo stated in appreciation a she gave the case another harsh tug.

"Oh shit." Feliks cursed before hanging up his cell phone with a click, tucking the device into his pocket before grabbing Matthew and dragging him towards the door. "Ok, there's like some really mad guys outside, two of them and they're coming in in like, a minute. I think it might be Ivan so you two go out the backdoor or they'll probably cut off like, half your arm for the case so just make sure you go out the back way, it's just down the hall, and Alfred." Feliks paused at the door, Yong-soo having been shoved outside but he held Matthew for a moment longer, running a hand over his hair with a dreamy look on his face, Matthew's face having a slight blush from the contact with his hair curl. "You're hair is like, totally silky, and you're a lot cuter than I remember." With that, Feliks leaned forward and quickly kissed Matthew on the lips, the two blonde's blushing, though Matthew did so much deeper.

"U-u-um, ah, th-." Feliks giggled at the shy Canadian before shoving him out the door, the briefcase being yanked by the metal fibre rope wrapped in plastic that attached the case to the handcuff around his wrist to slam into his leg painfully, earning a startled yelp from the blond.

"Better hurry, they'll be here soon." Feliks slammed the door shut, nearly catching Matthew's face as he had yet to recover from the abrupt kiss from the cross dressing polish man who had strapped a bomb to his wrist. Upon recalling this fact he whirled on the Korean with him.

"You." He declared, spittle flying from his mouth as he pointed accusingly to his raven haired friend.

"Me?"

"Yes you, I blame you for having a fucking bomb strapped to my wrist." Matthew shouted at an almost inside voice, grabbing the case with the cuffed hand to wave it around accusingly. Yong-soo held his hands up defensively before him.

"Hey, you could have left anytime, it's both our faults." Yong-soo reasoned a little shamefaced at the knowledge that he had in fact played a part in having a bomb attached to one of his few friends. Of course if the bomb went off he would have one less friend, or at least many pieces but they just weren't the same. Matthew glared, sputtered some insults before giving up with a deep exhale, slumping slightly.

"All right, fine. But you're coming with me to find this Ludwig person." Matthew declared pointedly, having a bomb attached to him giving him a certain degree of confidence in being confrontational. "Or I'm gonna take you with me when this thing goes off." He pointed to the case with a scowl. "Now, let's go before that Ivan guy Feliks was talking about shows up."

"Aw, but I never got my drink." Yong-soo whined in disappointment.

"Yes well, we can get a drink when there isn't someone coming to saw off my god damn hand!" Matthew barked at the Korean, who paled visibly.

"Ok, ok, let's go." With that, the pair rushed further down the hall of cables and wires, racing towards where Felix had pointed the back door to be lest they be caught in a contest they had yet to even realize the scope to be, nor the stakes everyone else was playing for.

()()()

Feliks paced in the technical room, his face somewhat furrowed in concern for the pair who had departed. He knew Alfred could take care of himself, even if he had seemed so much frailer when he had seen him than last, and cuter. But still, with Ivan it was best not to take chances. "I really hope they get out of here before-." Feliks froze when the doorknob of the room shook, the bronze coloured ball slowly turning and the doorway inching open.

"Hello Feliks, I've been looking for you." Sang the voice from the crack of the doorway. Feliks eyes widened in horror, his mouth growing dry.

"W-what are you doing here?" He shakily demanded.

**Cliff hanger is hanging.**

**I may have to come back and work on this, I'm not entirely satisfied. But regardless I loved writing this chapter, it was fun. Please read and review, it makes my day.**


	3. Imposters

**I do not own Hetalia.**

**Recap!**

"_Hello Feliks, I've been looking for you." Sang the voice from the crack of the doorway. Feliks eyes widened in horror, his mouth growing dry._

"_W-what are you doing here?" He shakily demanded._

"What are you talking about; Toris told me where you were." Alfred answered, a confused expression on his face as Feliks pushed himself up against the opposite wall of the control booth, his green eyes focusing on the America who had just entered with absolute terror. Kiku shuffled in beside the American, observing the Pole in the corner curiously before looking at Alfred.

"Alfred-san, what did you say to him?" Alfred shook his head without looking at Kiku, his eyes riveted on the cross dresser in the corner in complete mystification to the reaction he was receiving.

"I didn't say anything; he just freaked out and asked what I was doing here." Alfred told his partner somewhat defensively. Kiku gave him an admonishing look at that and was about to respond with likely some disbelieving remark had Feliks not interrupted him.

"Who the hell are you?" Feliks demanded, pointing at the confused Japanese man.

"Feliks, I told you about him, this is Kiku." Alfred explained, placing a hand on the Japanese mans shoulder in a friendly way. Feliks' eyes bulged comically as he stared at the Japanese man, who shifted slightly at the unnerving scrutiny.

"What happened to the other one?" Feliks demanded to the now thoroughly confused pair, who exchanged a look between them.

"Which other one?" Alfred asked slowly, as though the Pole was having trouble with understanding English, a problem the Polish man had not had for nearly a decade.

"The one you had with you like, five minutes ago."

"Feliks are you ok, I just got here, for some reason the bouncer didn't want to let me in. You can check with him if you want." Alfred explained worriedly, a cautious expression on his face. Feliks glared at the man who had dared question his well being.

"Of course. I'm like, totally fine, now wh- holy shit, w-why don't you have the c-case?" Feliks demanded shakily, pointing at the Americans un-manacled wrist. Alfred looked at where the Pole was pointing before advancing carefully so as not to startle the other man, placing a hand carefully on the Pole's shoulder.

"Feliks, I don't have the case, you never gave it to me, now what exactly is going on?" Alfred patiently asked, his eyes filled with concern as to his friend's welfare. Kiku cautiously following the Americans lead, not entirely comfortable being around such an unpredictable individual as Feliks.

"_Da_, I am curious as to where exactly the case is as well." Alfred whipped around, a handgun flying from the holster near his hip to his hand in order to point at the man who had just entered the room. Alfred's eyes narrowed furiously while Feliks' eyes widened in horror at the figures in the door.

Before the two men stood Ivan Braginsky, in all his menacing and terrifying glory wearing his beige coat, white scarf around his neck and childish grin plastered on his face. The former KGB agent wasn't alone however, which was what really had Feliks concerned.

"Ah ah ah Alfred, it would be a shame if I had to hurt poor Toris." A slight whimper followed that proclamation, prompting Alfred to glance down and visibly pale when he saw the brown haired green eyed man held in front of the Russian like a human shield with one arm, the other holding a pistol to the Lithuanians temple gleefully.

"Oh my gawd, Toris!" Feliks proclaimed in surprise, eying the brunette in horror. "Are you ok?"

"Doubt it." Alfred scoffed, narrowing his eyes dangerously at the massive Russian, his gun never straying from his face. Ivan giggled lightly, pushing the muzzle of his gun slightly more into the captive mans temple prompting him to suck in a breath quickly, his eyes growing wider with terror. "Let him go Ivan." The Russian grinned wider before giggling once again.

"Hmm, I don't think so. But I bet Toris would really like for you to give me the case _da_?" The Lithuanian gave a shaky nod, the gun still kissing his forehead affectionately. "_Da_. So where is it Feliks?" Ivan asked the blonde in question, pointedly ignoring the gun aimed at him from the American. Feliks glared straight into the massive Russians violet eyes, refusing to back down before the imposing figure the taller man cut.

"I don't have it." Feliks hissed to the Russian, who cocked his head to the side curiously, still smiling though it had dropped slightly to make more of a sinister grin.

"So who has it?" Feliks glanced down to the man in the Russians grasp, then back to the giant.

"Do you promise to, like, let him go and stuff?"

"Don't tell him Feliks." Alfred warned, his hand holding the gun never wavering even as he spoke to the other blond. Feliks ignored the other mans warning, focusing solely on the Russian.

"Are you going to let him go?" Feliks demanded again. Ivan hmmd in thought for a moment before his smile broke out into the full grin once again.

"Maybe, but first tell me where case is." Feliks glared at the Russian, but was unable to gain a more complete answer from the violet eyed giant. Feliks closed his eyes for a moment and sighed resignedly.

"Fine, I gave it to some guy that looks like Alfred." Feliks finally explained to his audience, who listened to the admission with almost painful interest.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"What!" Alfred screamed after a moment, spinning on the Pole with wide shock filled eyes. Feliks jumped a little at the sudden motion, or more specifically at the fact that the gun had just swung past him; Kiku shoving the arm holding the weapon down once it neared him so that it wasn't pointing at anybody friendly.

"Don't freak out, he looked just like you and had this Asian guy with him. I totally thought he was you!" Feliks retorted to the American.

"Well where is he?"

"Alfred-san, Ivan-."

"Shit! Ivan." Alfred shouted in realization of having accidentally forgotten the dangerous ex-KGB and spun around only to have Toris shoved into him, toppling the three men into a pile of confused limbs while the Russian rushed out the door, a gunshot pinging off the door as Kiku drew his own sidearm and fired desperately, his shot going wild without time to properly aim. Rushing to the door, Kiku threw it open and looked down both directions of the hall while Alfred shoved his way back to his feet, his gun at the ready as Kiku turned to him regretfully.

"He got away Alfred-san." The Japanese man apologized. Alfred cursed and kicked an innocent cable in impotent fury while Feliks pulled Toris to his feet.

"You okay Toris?" Felix asked casually as though the entire affair had not affected him. Toris brushed himself off shakily and looked himself over for any visible damage, sighing when there were no obvious signs.

"I-I'm okay Feliks." Toris told the blond.

"Fabulous, so anyway Alfred," Feliks continued, turning away from Toris casually, brushing the brunette off, "what I was going to say was that they booked it out of here a good fifteen minutes ago heading for the back. I hired someone totally great who was supposed to act as like, a guard or something until you got to Ludwig and he would totally take off the case." Feliks finished proudly.

"Why didn't you say so, come on Kiku, they may still be near the back door!" Alfred declared loudly, shoving the startled Japanese man out the door followed by the brash American who only was following because he was propelling the other man before him like a snowplough.

Feliks and Toris remained where they were for a minute, staring at the door as it slowly swung on its hinges having been jarred somewhat loose at the forceful exit of the two CIA agents before Feliks gave a slight cough to try and alleviate the silence.

"So, Toris. You wanna go get, like a drink at the bar or something?" There was another pause as the Pole waited for an answer, Toris turning his head to look at the man beside him.

"S-sure Feliks." Feliks grinned in satisfaction.

"Fabulous."

Alfred and Kiku stormed down the hall toward the back door, or at least Alfred stormed but Kiku was more like a cow being forced along with the hurricane force winds that was the Americans forceful personality. Dodging wires that hindered their path to the exit of the building, and picking themselves back up after tripping over some particularly elusive examples of the twisting cables, the found the door with a massive red glowing sign above marking, what they assumed to be as it was written in Cyrillic, the exit. Alfred grabbed the handle and threw the metal portal open for the pairs searching eyes.

()()()

Ten minutes earlier.

Matthew and Yong-soo burst from the exit like a cork from the bottle, both panting at the exertion of fleeing the club and the adrenaline rush, particularly the Canadian seeing as not only did he have a large metal case attached to his wrist that he had been forced to carry but also because said case was liable to explode. The pair leaned on each other, the door slamming behind them as they stumbled down the cement steps bridging the gap between the door and the Moscow alley, the smell of garbage blunted by the slight chill in the air.

"I think (gasp) I might hate this town." Matthew gasped, his face flushed at having made it to the exit in literally seconds along with his friend, the case weighing heavy in his hand in mind.

"It-(huff) it's a city." Yon-soo corrected, as they left the last of the exits step behind them, their feet hitting the pavement with a dull thump and a slight crackle as they crushed the frost.

"(Huff) Shut up." Matthew retorted as he straightened himself, recovering his breath now that they had a head start.

"H'llo." Matthew and Yong-soo stiffened t the voice, the pair turning to face the mouth of the alley before starting in fright. Not two feet away stood a giant of a man, towering over the Canadian even though he was the larger of the pair of friends with a grim expression on his face, piercing sky blue eyes stared down at them in an intimidating manner while his short blond hair and blue trench coat enveloping his form billowed slightly in the wind. The Canadian and Korean shivered, and it was not because of the cold air.

The nearly six foot figure watched the pair quake in silent and invisible confusion. Berwald had assumed that Feliks had informed them that he was to meet with whoever was going to be carrying the case and escort them to see Ludwig. He was, actually, unaware of where precisely Ludwig was, only that he was in Berlin. As such, his job was to take whoever had the case to Berlin and locate where the German was before having him remove the case, when he would be paid by Ludwig for safely delivering it. Berwald shrugged slightly in resignation, thrusting his hand out to shake the pair's hand.

"M' n'me 's Berwald, nic' ta m't you." Berwald declared to the pair, glaring down at the Canadian as his objective and thus his focus. The pair blanched and tried to shuffle back, only to have the massive Swedish man's penetrating gaze force them to pause. Matthew and Yong-soo exchanged a look of confusion, what the hell did he say? Then they realized what they had to do.

Without another moment of hesitation they quickly reached into their pockets

and promptly handed the intimidating man their wallets. They really didn't want to upset the man that was mugging them, particularly considering how clearly pissed the giant was.

Berwald looked at the pair of leather wallets in his hand with a raised eyebrow before he lowered it. Hmm, maybe they didn't speak English, which meant that they were trying to introduce themselves. Berwald nodded to himself, causing the pair before him to relax slightly, figuring that the giant must have accepted their sacrifice. They would have used a virgin, but that was the whole reason Matthew was giving the man his wallet in the first place.

Berwald flipped the wallets open, examining the photos critically. Hmm, so he was supposed to guard Matthew Williams, age twenty two and country of origin Canada. He glanced to the case the Canadian was holding and the cable that connected it to his wrist before nodding to himself, passing the wallets back to their confused but respective owners.

Matthew and Yong-soo put the wallets back into their pockets, looking to the Swede in confusion. Berwald for his part stared at them for a moment longer before turning to his side and gesturing for the pair to follow him.

"C'me with m'." He stoically declared. The pair jumped but followed the blue clothed figure hesitantly, unsure about his intentions particularly considering what they had just learned from Feliks.

()()()

"Oh crap they're gone." Alfred uttered morosely, staring at the empty alleyway with a frown of disappointment. Kiku nodded half-heartedly, having expected the individuals they were searching for were gone. Honestly, why would they not leave? They would have had to stand around out in the cold for a good ten minutes for them to have caught the pair of impersonators and considering what they were told they were either running around like chickens with their heads cut off or attempting to sell the information.

"Ugh, we may as well go ask Feliks if he knows where they may have gone." Alfred muttered, turning around and heading back into the club followed immediately after by Kiku, who was still working over the possible implications of having a pair of unknowns, one of which apparently looked startlingly like his partner, wandering around with extremely sensitive information.

It didn't look very good from any perspective.

Alfred and Kiku wandered back into the room where they had left Feliks and Toris, but found that it was empty of the blond and brunette. Alfred frowned slightly at the sight, scanning the small room in confusion.

"Aw hell, where did they go?" Alfred mumbled to himself before his eyes widened in horror. "Oh shit, Kiku do you think Ivan took them?" Alfred demanded in terror, swivelling his head around to assess his partner's reaction to his concerns. Kiku gave a thoughtful look, examining the wall of the room without really seeing it.

"I doubt it Alfred-san. Feliks-san can take care of himself, the only reason he didn't do anything when Ivan was here was because he feared for Toris-san." Alfred blinked as he absorbed that information before laughing nervously.

"Ha, guess you're right. Still, we should probably find them." Kiku nodded in agreement and they both jogged slightly in the direction of the main club, just to show they weren't really worried... kind of. When they returned to the main section of the club their fears were immediately dispelled when they saw the rather obvious pair at the bar, Toris attempting to convince Feliks to moderate himself somewhat while the blond waved off the others concern in favour of taking another swig from a bottle of indistinguishable alcoholic standard. Alfred and Kiku immediately made a beeline to the pair, Feliks waving at them once he spotted the approaching duo.

"Hey, you're here. Check out this fabulous beer," Feliks declared with a grin, shoving the bottle forward so that Alfred could have an excellent view of the label, "it like, has a picture of a pony on it." Alfred rolled his eyes and pushed the bottle away from his face.

"Great Feliks. Anyway, do you know where those guys could have gone?" Alfred asked the Pole bluntly. Feliks shrugged nonchalantly as though it didn't matter.

"Nope, like I said I thought they were you guys. Damned if I know where they went." Alfred sighed and plopped himself into a stool beside Feliks, pressing his forehead against the wood of the bar in depression. Kiku watched the breakdown without comment before turning to Toris, rightly believing that the man would prove more successful in answering any questions he had.

"Toris-san, Feliks-san mentioned someone who was hired to protect us after we had the case, could they know where the imposters are?" Alfred lit up and looked to the Lithuanian in expectation, his eyes shining in hope as he straightened to regard Toris.

"Ya, that's right. Any idea where we could find 'em?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know where they are." Toris apologized to them.

"Whaaat, but you hired them." Alfred whined in disappointment, resting his cheek back on the bar while he continued to gaze at Toris with a heave pout. Toris nodded to Alfred but remained pensive.

"Y-yes we did, but they were professionals and insisted that we break contact after we paid them half of their fee, in case we led Ivan to them." Toris explained. Alfred scowled darkly at the name and the lost opportunity.

"What did they look like; it would assist us in finding them." Kiku interjected, immediately pulling a sketchbook and pencil out of a pocket, readying them for a hopeful caricature. Alfred turned back to Feliks as Kiku began to sketch down the details the Lithuanian was giving him.

"So, why did he look like me, I mean was he wearing a mask or something?" Alfred asked curiously, interested in perhaps discovering further facts about the first pair of people he was searching for while Kiku gained the specific of the other two who would be guarding them.

"Well, the first one was like, Korean or something and was totally loud and obnoxious. The other one was... was..." Feliks scrunched up his face in concentration, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"He was..." Alfred prompted the other man. Feliks looked back to Alfred in confusion.

"I don't really remember, he was like... I don't know, he totally completely slipped my mind." Feliks explained helplessly. Alfred frowned at the new information. So, apparently he looked like Alfred, but was able to make himself really forgettable. It was disturbing because it may mean that his lookalike was not as new to subterfuge as he may have seemed.

Also, it seemed the Koreans were getting involved.

()()()

Tino sat in the hotel chair, a ridiculously soft thing that the Finnish man was finding somewhat enjoyable as he snuggled into it causing his light blue uniform to ruffle slightly at the contact with the other fabric. Tino sighed in contentment as he closed his sky blue eyes in comfort, his blonde hair pressing against the back of his neck as he leaned his head against the chair. His hands were occupied with a well worn book held open for his perusal whenever he felt like attempting to break himself of the calming atmosphere around him to attempt to read further.

It was rare that Tino had some real peace; ever since he has begun working with Berwald it had been awkward. It wasn't that the man was particularly disruptive (hell, he did nearly everything that Tino asked him to do and then some) it was just that he could be somewhat... well terrifying.

Tino heard the front door of the apartment open with a creak; heavy footfalls heralded the return of Berwald. Tino quickly stood and smoothed out his clothes nervously, a weak smile plastering it on his face in preparation of Berwald's return.

The massive Swede stepped into the room and looked to Tino, nodding at the smaller man stiffly. "H'llo Tino." He stated stoically to the Fin.

"H-hi Berwald, was everything alright." Tino immediately responded, bowing slightly in nervousness. Berwald stared at him for a moment before nodding in the affirmative.

"It w's fine." Berwald then stood to his side, a nervous looking Asian and blond shuffling in, eying Tino cautiously. Tino waved slightly at them, earning him a weak return after they looked between each other in awkward confusion. Tino understood that Berwald could be very intimidating and his accent was likely not something many were used to, making the giant quite threatening and often difficult to comprehend. Tino glanced down at the case in the blonds' hand in understanding before looking back up to Berwald.

"Um, Berwald."

"Hn." The Swede grunted in response to indicate he was listening.

"Could you maybe get me a drink?" Tino nervously asked. The Swede stared at him with his piercing blue eyes, drilling holes into him.

"Okay." Berwald informed Tino before turning around and leaving the apartment. The three men breathed a collective sigh of relief at his exit, Tino looking to the blond with a friendly smile. Matthew eyed the Fin suspiciously before giving a shy smile of his own, holding his hand out to shake.

"H-hi, my name's Matthew and this is Yong-soo." He indicated the Asian beside him who waved cheerfully.

"_An nyoung_."

"I'm sorry, you want an onion?" Tino asked curiously.

"Um, no." Yong-soo awkwardly responded after a second. There was a pregnant pause between them as that unfortunate miscommunication hanged in the air. Matthew coughed lightly in an attempt to dispel the somewhat tense atmosphere.

"Sooo, is he going to... well... r-rape me?" Matthew nervously asked the Finnish blond, adjusting his glasses awkwardly as he did so. Tino laughed slightly as he shook his head.

"Oh no, no no, Berwald is actually very nice once you get to know him. He's just... intimidating." Tino explained.

"Ah, ok." Matthew responded in acknowledgement, deflating in relief. There was another pause between them all before Yong-soo nudged Matthew, jerking his head at Tino. Matthew gave him a curious look before dawning realization crossed over his face. "Oh, ya. So, does that mean he's going to rape Yong-soo?" Matthew asked casually, jerking his thumb at his friend. It wasn't that he didn't care, he was just very, very relieved.

Tino sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No, no one is going to be raped." Matthew and Yong-soo sighed in relief before collapsing on the nearby bed, Yong-soo falling backward and snoring almost immediately while Matthew gave his friend an exasperated glance before turning back to Tino.

"So, Tino, why exactly did Berwald bring us here?" Matthew asked curiously, still somewhat apprehensive about why he was more or less abducted in the middle of the street. Not to say he wasn't relieved he wasn't going to be raped, he was just still confused as to what exactly the two Nordic gentlemen wanted from him.

"Well, it's about the case." Tino began, watching as Matthew instantly tensed at the mention of what was attached to his wrist, and the people who wanted to saw however much of his arm off that was necessary to get their hands on it.

"Ok... I'm listening." Tino took a deep breath and began to explain to the Canadian exactly what it was and what it was for, Matthew growing steadily paler as the minutes rolled on.

**Argh, damn you Sweden and your accursed accent. I apologize for doubtlessly butchering his accent and for possibly making Tino OOC. So, I wrote this but had to take a break to write a one shot for Halloween, good times. Anyway, lot's of new characters introduced and dynamics, but this is likely the last we'll see of Poland and Lithuania unless I feel like adding a side plot. Read and Review, it makes my day.**


	4. Checking Out

**I forgot to mention but **_**An nyoun **_**is hello in Korean.**

**Recap.**

"_Well, it's about the case." Tino began, watching as Matthew instantly tensed at the mention of what was attached to his wrist, and the people who wanted to saw however much of his arm off that was necessary to get their hands on it._

"_Ok... I'm listening." Tino took a deep breath and began to explain to the Canadian exactly what it was and what it was for, Matthew growing steadily paler as the minutes rolled on._

"... and so we need to get to Berlin. Ludwig will be able to remove the case according to Feliks." Tino finished with a deep exhale as though the explanation had exhausted him to the same point as running in a marathon. Tino looked at Matthew, whose face was blank and rather pale. "Matthew, are you alright?" Tino worriedly asked, waving a palm in front of the other blonds' face in the hopes of garnering a reaction.

Matthew blinked and looked to Tino somewhat distantly. "Um, yeah. I guess. Could you excuse me for a second." Matthew answered, getting up from the bed and walking calmly into the rooms adjoining bathroom. Tino watched him go with a slight smile, widening a bit more when the room door opened and Berwald stepped in with a glass of what appeared to be soda judging by the occasional bubble drifting from it.

"T-thank you Berwald." Tino took the glass from the Swedish man's hand and held it closely as Berwald stared down at him.

"Y'r welcome." The Swede answered before glancing at the snoring Korean. "Where did Mat'ew go?" He asked Tino stoically. Tino, somewhat nervously, patted the taller mans shoulder reassuringly though it was a bit of a reach for him to do so.

"I just finished explaining the situation and he went to bathroom. He seemed to have taken it pretty well." Tino told his partner with a somewhat confident tone as he set the glass down on the bedside table.

"Aauuuuuuuuugh!" Tino started at the loud screech from the bathroom, his glass of pop shattering into several shards and even Berwald jumped slightly at the wail before slowly looking over his shoulder at the bathroom, then turning his head back to regard Tino. Yong-soo remained where he was but snored slightly louder during the exclamation.

"... 'kay." Berwald told his blond companion after a moment, Tino flushing slightly in embarrassment. Matthew exited the bathroom looking extremely calm. Both Berwald and Tino watched expectantly as the blond man advanced to the bed Yong-soo was resting on before falling face down onto the mattress. After a minute or so of staring at his motionless body Tino poked his shoulder in the hopes of eliciting some sort of reaction which, aside from a snort from the where the face met the sheets was not forthcoming.

"We should probably roll him over so that he doesn't suffocate."

"Hn." Berwald walked over to the blond and casually flipped him over unto his back, said Canadian groaned slightly and rolled unto his side facing away from Yong-soo but otherwise did nothing. Tino watched him for a moment and sighed, looking up to Berwald with a depressed look.

"It looks like he's new at this, if even involved at all. I guess they figured nobody would know what he looked like so it would be easier for him to smuggle it."

"M'kes sens'." Tino sighed again as another thing occurred to him. The Korean and Canadian, the former having rolled onto his stomach while his arm draped over the latter's shoulder, had taken his bed.

"Oh dear, they're on my bed." Tino complained softly. "Now where am I going to sleep?" Berwald straightened at that and, after removing his blue coat, shirt and pants leaving him with only a pair of boxers emblazoned with the Swedish flag on his form he grabbed a sheet off his bed and pointed at it.

"Y'u can have m' bed." Tino's eyes widened but before he could protest the Swede had already laid down on the floor with the extremely thin sheet covering him.

"B-but Berwald, I can't just take your bed like that." Tino finally protested, waving his hands to try and further explain himself through a game of charades. Berwald stared at the smaller man through his small rectangular glasses, his penetrating blue eyes intimidating the other fellow even though the effect was not actually desired by Berwald.

"Y'u want th' sheet too?" He asked from a moment, still giving the impression of looking down on Tino even though he was lying down on the floor.

"N-no but, it's just that, well..." Tino trailed off weakly. Berwald stared at him for a moment longer before nodding to himself and taking off his glasses.

"G'night. W' hav' a train to catch t'morrow." Tino sighed helplessly before going to 'his' bed and slipping out of his pants and shirt before going beneath the covers. Right before he went to sleep he slipped the four train tickets from Moscow to Kiev from his pants pocket and placed them on the bedside table so they would not be damaged during the night. They had considered taking one straight to Berlin, but realized that considering the valuable and delicate nature of the package and its handler respectively as that scream from the bathroom at a pitch an opera singer would envy if the shattered glass could attest to, it would likely be wiser to take a roundabout and thus less obvious path. The train alone was inconspicuous but, add in the route they were taking to actually reach Berlin they should encounter minimal complications.

"Goodnight Berwald." Tino replied before turning off the light, a grunt being his response from the giant. After another minute they were both sound asleep.

"Mmn... belong to Korea." Yong-soo muttered sleepily, his hand squeezing Matthews chest from over the Canadians shoulder. Matthew muttered something in his sleep and swatted at the hand groping him, a knee jerk reaction that he had picked up during his college days but he usually did not have a case attached to his wrist during those nights.

As such, said case was jerked by the Canadians motion from where it had landed when Matthew had collapsed on the bed to smack into Yong-soo's head painfully.

Yong-soo woke with a start and a muffled exclamation of discomfort before groggily rolling over and rising, a hand stroking the tender area of his head with a wince before glancing at the cause of his discomfort. He shook his head half in an expression of annoyance but mostly just to rid himself of the fogginess of sleep.

"Hmm, 'm thirsty." Yong-soo muttered before rising with a stretch and grinning happily before skipping to the door. Yong-soo had always been an early riser, which had served him well if he felt the need to claim his roommate's breasts in the name of Korea as the Canadian was a late riser at best and tended to be able effectively fight off Yong-soo when awake.

Opening the door, Yong-soo slipped into the hall before closing it behind him with a resounding click.

()()()

Alfred was pacing in his and Kiku's hotel room, so enraptured in his own thoughts that he had forgotten to get them both a separate room at the hotel like he had earlier considered. Kiku was not entirely surprised but wasn't terribly concerned as the brash American had not brought a woman back this time. In fact, after pumping both Toris and Feliks for as much information as they could they had departed and rented a room at the nearest hotel of reasonable repute they had been able to find. The room they were in at the moment was not sparse, consisting of two beds, a single bedside table with an alarm clock and phone and a TV but was not lavish either.

"Alfred-san, perhaps you would like to watch some television?" Kiku hopefully inquired. He was concerned as his partner had been rather broody of late and the pacing was beginning to worry the Japanese man, who was now confident that a permanent mark would soon be instilled into the rug from the other mans pacing.

Alfred shook his head definitely. "No way Kiku, the last thing I need is to be exposed to Commie propaganda." Kiku sighed before leaning back unto the bed, placing his sketchbook on the side table and crossing his hands over his chest.

"Alfred-san, perhaps you should rest. It has been a trying day." Kiku tried instead but the American waved him off.

"Can't, gotta focus. Hey, pass me that sketch you did of those guys guarding my imposter." Alfred held out his hand expectantly. Kiku nodded and eagerly passed the book over to the blond, glad his companion had ceased his infernal pacing in favour of a hopefully more constructive effort.

Alfred grinned at the Japanese man before opening the book, his face taking on a more curious look as he flipped through several pages. Kiku watched him with a raised eyebrow of curiosity as to what exactly could have prompted the American to display anything other than studious interest.

"Hey Kiku." Alfred finally said after a slightly drawn out silence.

"_Hai _Alfred-san?"

"Is this really them?" Kiku cocked his head curiously at the blond still examining the book.

"It should be, why?" Alfred shrugged slightly before turning a page.

"Well, it's just that in almost all the pictures they seem to be hugging or wrestling each other and it doesn't really-." Alfred was abruptly cut off when Kiku sprang from his bed and grabbed the notebook, blushing profusely as he tore out the pages Alfred had been examining and then some before hurriedly shoving them behind his back and handing the notebook back to the American. Alfred cautiously took the book as though Kiku would suddenly bite him before opening it again to view the image of a stern looking man with piercing eyes and a somewhat timid other man etched into the paper.

"So, these are the two that Feliks hired?" Alfred curiously inquired.

"Y-yes. They are exactly as Toris-san described them to be." Kiku informed Alfred, nodding vigorously. Alfred examined the caricatures, his hand holding his chin thoughtfully as he committed their every feature to memory.

"Thanks Kiku, this should be handy for when we're looking for them." Alfred handed the book back to the Japanese man, who took it somewhat shakily and slid it onto the bedside table where it had earlier occupied.

"N-no problem Alfred-san. Toris-san was very helpful."

"Ya, Toris is a good guy. I'm glad you drew those because those other pictures really didn't help." Kiku nodded vigorously, attempting to get the Americans mind off the pictures he had been drawing.

"Yes, I agree but they are gone now Alfred-san, let us never speak of them again." Alfred shrugged and laid down on the bed, letting out a content sigh.

"Well, at least we're getting somewhere." Alfred said, but somewhat morosely as he lay there staring at the ceiling. "... They're going to leave the city soon, probably tomorrow." Alfred finally began, not tearing his gaze from the generic sight of the egg shell coloured ceiling of the room. "I mean, they can't stay. Those guys are professionals and are going to want to leave as soon as possible." Kiku nodded in agreement, swinging his legs around so that he was facing his companion, legs dangling over the side of the second bed.

"How will they leave though? A plane perhaps?" Kiku asked the American. It was a common practice of theirs, wherein they would bounce questions and opinions of each other to try and narrow down the possibilities. Alfred scoffed but not bitingly, shaking his head negatively.

"Nah, you drew that picture. A guy with a face like that, a stewardess would probably think he was going to eat her alive. That and he doesn't exactly conform to the picture of the quintessential traveller, he's too obvious for that." Kiku nodded in agreement. The giant would definitely strike someone as out of the ordinary and would raise red flags automatically.

"Could they have rented a car?" Kiku offered instead. Alfred seemed to consider that for a moment longer that the first before shaking his head again.

"No, they're too good. They wouldn't leave something as obvious as a paper trail from a rental place. No, it would have to be something else." They both grew quiet as they considered that. Nothing that could be rented and no plane, what else was there to travel with?

"A train?" Kiku finally asked, the idea popping into his head. Alfred mulled it over, the idea becoming more and more possible as he continued to consider it. A train, though somewhat slow, was the least obvious choice, left no paper trail if they paid cash for the tickets, was large enough so that should someone force the train to stop they would have enough time to attempt an escape with ease and if they paid a bit extra they could have a private car with a lock making it easier to hide themselves.

"That could be it." Alfred declared cheerfully, sitting up enthusiastically and snatching the phone off the receiver next to his bed. "I'm gonna get some guys to watch the airport and check the obvious rental places. Just in case. But let's head off to the station tomorrow and head them off." Kiku nodded to the other man before hopping off the bed.

"I will locate exactly where the train station is, we will head there in the morning." Kiku declared with a somewhat subdued excitement.

"Yeah, there should be something in the lobby or something. Try there." Kiku nodded, glad to be doing something productive before quickly moving to the front door and, after ensuring he had his room key, exited the room.

Kiku walked down the hall in the direction of the elevator, a humble smile gracing his lips at the joy of doing something useful instead of merely sitting in that room with little else to do aside from twiddling his thumbs. The intermittent difference of numbers on the doors of the room he passed by were the sole changes that Kiku encountered in the hall until he reached the elevator, pressing the down button decisively.

Kiku patiently watched as the numbers on the panel above the elevator slowly flashed, each signalling his time waiting would end shortly. Soon, the gentle hum of the machines that moved the metal contraption ceased and a light ding informed Kiku that his ride had finally arrived.

The doors of the elevator slid open but only to reveal that there was, in actual fact, already an occupant.

"_An nyoun_." Yong-soo cheerfully declared, waving at the Japanese man before him with one hand, the other was occupied with a can of pop. Kiku started at the unexpected greeting but quickly bowed slightly to the younger man.

"_Konichiwa._" Yong-soo gave another grin and walked past the Japanese man, who watched him with slight interest until he disappeared into the room next to the one he and Alfred were staying in. With a shrug, Kiku entered the elevator and pressed the lobby button, watching as the doors closed though his thoughts drifted briefly to the other Asian. It was odd to see a Korean, particularly in Moscow of all places.

Small world he thought with a shrug.

()()()

Eduard did not like his life. Sure Ivan paid very well and no one would willingly give him grief knowing he worked for the intimidating Russian but, sadly it was mostly said Russian that gave him more trouble than he could have possibly had to deal with outside of Ivan's employ. After all, he was threatened, abused, and made to do some of the most god awful jobs imaginable. Speaking of which, he though grimly as he climbed the stairs of Ivan's gargantuan home, he should be coming up on that problem shortly judging by the loud scratching sound he was hearing from the second floor.

Shuddering in fear, Eduard stepped over the last step of the staircase and unto the second floor. He then walked down the hall to where Ivan's room was, pausing a good ten feet from the reinforced door as he assessed the situation. After all, he was the smart one of what had been termed by many to be the trembling trio. He was the one who could read the atmosphere and escape in time to avoid torment, he was the gadget master, he was the one who knew when a good time to avoid Ivan was and he was the one who knew when he had better do what Ivan wants without him actually having to say what he wants.

Today, that consisted of getting his younger sister Natalia with the white and blue dress, blue bow on her head, long platinum blond hair much like her sister and brothers and long sharp fingernails currently gouging out ten new indents into Ivan's bedroom door away from said entrance.

"Broooother, open up so that we can get maaarried." Natalia whispered darkly against the door but loud enough so that Ivan, judging by the strangled sob from inside, heard very well. Eduard shivered and gulped nervously, freezing when the woman swung her head around like a viper at the noise to glare daggers at him.

"Um, aheh, h-hello Natalia." Eduard nervously greeted, giving a shallow bow and watching as several droplets of sweat fell from his forehead to splash on the floor. The woman just stared at him coldly, chilling him to the very bone.

"What do you want?" She hissed darkly, her eyes narrowing at him. Eduard gulped again and shifted nervously.

"M-me? Oh, well. I was just, um, g-going to say that you s-should, uh, consider going to bed. O-or else you might miss your train to see K-Katyusha tomorrow." Eduard nervously informed the murderous woman.

Natalia glared at him some more before looking back to the damaged door in front of her. "I cannot go yet, not until Ivan agrees to let me see him so that we can be married." She informed him with an almost reverent tone, or obsessive. Eduard was leaning more towards the latter.

"B-but Ivan has already agreed t-to see you off, and y-you don't want to d-disappoint Katyusha. S-she might cry i-if you don't go." Natalia returned to glaring at Eduard even harsher than before but, after a moment of that she reluctantly rose to her feet. Her sister, Katyusha, was her older sister and she would hate to disappoint her, particularly considering how much of a cry baby the older woman was.

"Very well. Go get me a blanket." She ordered Eduard, who jumped slightly before wringing his hands nervously, trying to muster up the courage to ask the woman why.

"W-w-w-w-."

"I will sleep here by my beloved, in case big brother needs anything. After all," Natalia smiled a Cheshire cat like grin, showing off an impressive array of teeth, "his bedroom doesn't have a built in bathroom."

There was a strangled sob from the other side of the door.

()()()

Matthew le out an extravagant yawn, quickly covering his mouth with the hand not occupied with carrying a metal case with a bomb in it forcefully attached to his wrist. He had always enjoyed sleeping in but he had been rudely awakened by a shake to the shoulder and a pair of disturbing and piercing blue eyes glaring at him, a sight which had made him wake abruptly. In his defence, it had been utterly terrifying.

That aside, after a somewhat awkward shower wherein he had been forced to improvise with the case attached by a thin cable to his wrist he had eventually successfully managed to leave the room they had stayed in and were now on their way downstairs to get something to eat before they left for the train station.

So here he was, standing in the middle of a huge buffet surrounded by Russians with a puffy collared beige flight jacket covering him courtesy of Berwald. Matthew had asked why he had to wear such a huge coat and, after an explanation from the giant of a Swede Matthew had just taken the jacket as he couldn't make heads or tails of what the hell the man was saying so he went by expression which said 'I'm going to hurt you very soon using a small dog and a pair of pliers', which though likely inaccurate he dared not ask him to repeat himself lest he have garnered the correct translation. Suffice to say Matthew took the jacket.

Matthew glanced to where Yong-soo was to observe him chatting up a Woman who looked considerably uncomfortable and uncomprehending of the rapid mix of English, Korean and internet slang his friend was speaking in. Yong-soo was holding a plate of food which appeared to have been mashed together forming a pile of hodgepodge. Matthew rolled his eyes at his friends antics before he searched out his 'bodyguards', finally finding the pair seated at a table chewing on what appeared to be... fish, maybe?

Must be a Nordic thing.

Matthew examined the food laid out on the buffet table before him grumpily, rather annoyed at his Korean friend right then. The bastard had told him that there were pancakes in an attempt to draw the Canadian out of his sleep faster, but not just any pancakes. Pancakes with blueberries even! There was just one problem.

The cake was a lie!

Matthew had been in the restaurant for a good twenty minutes and had searched all the tables three times over and had found not a single pancake, blueberries or otherwise. He hadn't even found maple syrup, which in the absence of pancakes he would have loved in some Tim Horton's coffee but, bereft of that particularly confectionary he found himself wandering about the restaurant in a depression.

Finally, with a sigh resigning him to a pancakeless breakfast he reached for an apple, only to see another hand reach for the same piece of fruit. Matthew paused, a sole finger on the apple while the other hand did as well in the same position. Now curious, Matthew turned his head up to regard

Himself.

Two pairs of eyes blinked in unison from behind a pair of glasses as they stared at each other, the two blonds tilting their heads to the side curiously, their heads moving against the somewhat fluffy frill around their collars as they stared.

"Huh, weird place for a mirror." Matthew's eyes widened in horror at what appeared to be his reflection.

Reflections don't speak.

**Ha, another chapter and things start to move together. Sweden's character is really weird and most people have their own opinions about how he should act, I decided to try and follow as closely as I could the way his and Finland's relationship kind of pans out in the anime and comics, wherein Sweden thinks they have something while Finland is still somewhat unsure of where he stands so sorry, no smexing any time soon.**

**I was really stuck on how to introduce Belarus into this and went through at least three different scenarios before finally deciding on this one for her introduction. Sorry if it's a little short.**

**The cake may be a lie but reviews don't have to be.**


	5. Reflective Surfaces

_Himself._

_Two pairs of eyes blinked in unison from behind a pair of glasses as they stared at each other, the two blonds tilting their heads to the side curiously, their heads moving against the somewhat fluffy frill around their collars as they stared._

"_Huh, weird place for a mirror." Matthew's eyes widened in horror at what appeared to be his reflection._

_Reflections don't speak._

Matthew was not easily panicked. He had been at one time, however he had mellowed for the most part after the time Yong-soo used all of the fire extinguishers in their dorm to try and fly by taping the extinguishers to a chair using duct tape, which Matthew later confiscated when he found the Asian sprawled out on the front lawn of the dorm surrounded by white foam, a crushed desk chair nearby from where he had launched himself from the second story window using the extinguishers as a form of propulsion. Matthew learned to use the panic to move quickly and with purpose to better prevent such events from occurring or escalating, like when he had poured his bowl of soup over Yong-soo's attempt at creating homemade napalm for his science class. Matthew having been just fast enough to save their dorm room. A wise move since the Korean had already removed all the fire extinguishers and emptied them the same day with the earlier mentioned attempt at aeronautic engineering.

As such, Matthews mind was sharp under pressure which was proving an invaluable asset as it took him mere seconds to sort through the events following the realization that the figure before him was not, in fact, a reflection. The person before him was practically a mirror image of Matthew, the few differences being that his jacket was brown not beige, he had messier blond locks and finally his eyes were blue. Of course, the other had yet to realize these rather essential differences.

"I wonder what Kiku will think?" At that point, Matthew's brain burned out only to be brought back to life as he recognized that name as the one that Feliks had given Yong-soo when they had first met. Feliks had then slapped a bomb onto his wrist under the impression he was someone named Alfred, who had a partner named Kiku, and Alfred looked just like Matthew.

Oh.

Oh!

And the bomb could only be removed by someone named Ludwig or by sawing Matthews arm off and, considering the people he had met since this unfortunate and pathetic attempt at what had been termed a vacation Matthew had no idea how Alfred would react seeing the object of his mission in a restaurant with many sharp objects whose sole design was the severing of meat, namely hatchets and steak knives.

Matthew sprang back to awareness as Alfred began to move his arm to scratch his head, Matthew hastening to instinctively mimic the other mans actions as he desperately started to try and think of a way out of his predicament.

Alfred, on the other hand was watching his reflection scratch his head before leaning forward and opening his mouth wide, Matthew copying him exactly.

"Ugh, what is that?" Alfred muttered curiously, observing a small piece of lettuce stuck in Matthew's teeth. He raised a hand and picked at where the piece of greenery would have been if the person before him was in fact a mirror reflection, pulling his hand back and examining the finger once Matthew had picked the lettuce out.

Only there was no lettuce on his finger.

"Huh?" Alfred looked back at his reflection and... did his reflection's hand just wipe something off underneath the tablecloth? Because it sure looked like that was what had just happened. Alfred immediately brought his hand back up and examined it, but found nothing out of the ordinary and, glancing at his mirror image he saw nothing wrong there either.

Alfred leaned slightly across the table, his eyes narrowing when it seemed like his reflection moved a little slower than he did. Alfred considered his reflection before leaning forward once more and planting his hands on the table, noticing more and more differences between himself and the man across from him. Matthew was beginning to breathe shallowly as he felt the beginning of a panic attack, his heart hammering in his chest.

It was about that point that Alfred realized he had not actually planted his hands on the table. Rather, his hands had taken up residence in a pan filled with still hot hash browns in front of him.

"Holy crap in a god damn hat!" Alfred screeched, ripping his hands out of the plate of hot food and shoving them beneath his armpits to try and soothe the burning sensation currently ravaging his hands. Alfred brought his hands out of his armpits after a moment and blew on them, sighing in relief when the searing heat more or less dissipated.

"Alfred-san, are you alright?" Kiku worriedly exclaimed, rushing to the Americans side and examining his partner's hands in concern after hearing the screech of pain.

"Ah, ya, ya I'm fine. Christ that burned." Alfred grumbled, shaking his hands slightly in an attempt to cool them even further. Finally, sighing in relief that there was no serious permanent damage Alfred dropped his hands to his sides.

"Are you sure?" Kiku asked again though Alfred just waved it off.

"Ya, I'm fine I was just surprised. I was looking into this mirror and burned myself." Alfred mentioned casually, indicating the place across the table from him where his mimic had stood previously. Kiku glanced to space curiously before raising an eyebrow of confusion.

"Um, Alfred-san."

"Ya?" Alfred asked, examining the now ruined plate of hash browns and debating on whether they were still edible.

"There is no mirror here." It took Alfred a moment to process that but when he did his head shot up from examining the plate to stare at where he had thought a mirror had been.

"What!" Alfred then realized that, the entire time since he had burned himself his reflection had been absent. Cautiously, as though expecting to impact something at any moment, he reached his hand over to where his look alike had stood only to encounter nothing.

Alfred drew his hand back in surprise. "What the hell, I know that there was my reflection there just a minute ago." Alfred mused to himself, narrowing his eyes at the spot where his reflection had been and supremely creeping out a rather rotund man who had been standing there attempting to serve himself hash browns before noticing the handprints in the food and promptly scurrying away.

"Do you still wish to get something to eat?" Kiku inquired after a moment. Alfred shook his head with a frown as his friend distracted him, his short attention span focusing now on the possibility of food rather than doppelgangers.

"Nah, unless you found some burgers?" Alfred inquired hopefully, almost pleadingly. Kiku shook his head slowly, watching as Alfred sighed sadly.

"Fine, lets just go to the station." Alfred reluctantly muttered before looking around the restaurant curiously. "Where the hells the front door?"

Tino had been about to dig into his food when an extremely nervous looking Matthew arrived at their table, his eyes darting to the crowd nearer the buffets nervously as he dragged a somewhat confused Yong-soo behind him. Tino and Berwald exchanged a look, though with the Swedes was more of menace but regardless it was a look all the same.

"Hey, um. Just a thought but maybe, you know, we should head out s-soon. O-or something." Matthew nervously informed the pair.

"Ok, why Matthew?" Tino asked in natural curiosity.

"Excuse me; do you know where the exit is?" A polite voice inquired. The four people at the table froze and slowly turned to regard the speaker, who was Japanese man bowing politely and eyes to the ground while a blonde American stood casually at his side, looking boredly at a corner of the room. Tino glanced between the distracted American and Matthew, who was staring at the pair with absolute horror. Immediately Berwald stood to his full height and towered over the pair of intruders. After a moment of silence Alfred looked to see what the problem was before looking up to see eye to eye with the massive glowering Swede, his eyes growing in surprise behind his square glasses.

"Hey, wait a sec. You're-." Alfred abruptly found what he saying cut off when Berwald's fist impacted his jaw with no small degree of force behind it causing the American to fly backwards and unto the floor in pain.

"Ya, uh that's why." Matthew finally said, pointing weakly at the American currently busy lying on the floor in a daze. Matthew barely had time to say that before Berwald had grabbed him and flung the shorter man over his shoulder eliciting a startled yelp from the blond before fleeing towards the front door, Tino immediately following after and Yong-soo as well after a moment. The quartet ignored the mass of restaurant patrons who stared at them with looks between surprise, caution or thankfulness for shutting the American up.

Kiku, immediately following the crack as Berwalds fist impacted his partners jaw, rushed to his companion and helped the American sit up as the blue eyed bespectacled man rubbed his jaw in pain.

"Ow, mother fucker."

"Alfred-san, are you alright?" Kiku inquired worriedly, pulling the other man to his feet.

"Ya, ya I'm okay. Christ, what an ass." Alfred looked at Kiku who was giving him a questioning look.

"What?"

"Why did he hit you?" Kiku asked his companion. Alfred's eyes widened in shock at the realization that he had forgotten after being socked in the jaw.

"Oh shit, right. He's the scary guy that you drew." Alfred exclaimed, watching in satisfaction as Kiku's eyes widened in shared realization.

"He was?"

"Ya, now come on after them quick."

()()()

Raivis was not happy. Of course, this was hardly a new occurrence as he had felt this way ever since he had started working for Ivan Braginsky along with Toris and Eduard. Of course, after Toris left it had just been him and Eduard working for the horrifying man and since Eduard was the self styled smart one of them Raivis was, of course, given the most unpleasant jobs since Eduard had this strange almost psychic sense of when to flee the room leaving him alone to deal with the intimidating Russian and thus be saddled with whatever job Eduard did not feel like suffering through.

So here Raivis was, sitting in a car outside of the hotel Ivan had told the somewhat small Latvian man Alfred and Kiku, who the Russian had had Raivis follow to the hotel in the first place after they left the club, were staying at. As such, Ivan had instructed the small short cut blond haired blue eyed man to wait for the pair to leave.

Of course, he had told Raivis to stay in the car and wait for the pair to leave the hotel immediately after Raivis had called him. And of course, Raivis had immediately done so after following the pair to the hotel and was too afraid to leave the vehicle lest he misses them and Ivan (gulp) punished him for missing them.

Raivis rested his forehead on the steering wheel of the cab, a type of vehicle he had found effective as a sort of urban camouflage during prior jobs, in depression. He had been sitting in the car for nearly ten hours without sleep.

And he really needed to use the bathroom.

Then again, since he was doing this job he hadn't had to deal with Natalia, who he may or may not have informed where Ivan was hiding from her. Raivis let a slight smirk cross his lips at that thought, a sense of satisfaction he felt very rarely coursing through him at his small act of rebellion.

This feeling lasted one second longer before the backseat of his cab was suddenly filled with three people and the seat beside Raivis filled with a massive and terrifying blond with piercing blue eyes whose gaze made the short Latvian tremble in fear.

"T' th' train stati'n." The man rumbled, his eyes almost daring Raivis to argue. Properly scared but knowing that his life may be in danger if he left the hotel he glanced to the backseat in the hopes of finding a reason to kick them out of the cab,

When he saw the blond in the backseat looking at the hotel worriedly. Alfred F. Jones was in his backseat and, though he didn't know the other three men he recognized the American. It was his lucky day because he had his doubts that the massive man seated beside him would have taken no for an answer.

"Y-yes sir." Raivis nervously uttered as he started the cab and slammed his foot on the accelerator, speeding away in the direction of the train station with a squeal of rubber on road just as the actual Alfred F. Jones burst from the restaurant with Kiku hot on his heels. Alfred's eyes immediately darted towards where the somewhat cliché sound of a speedy getaway resounded across the street, directing him to the view of the rear of a fleeing taxi.

"Crap, there they go." Alfred barked furiously, clenching his fists in anger as the vehicle sped around a corner. "Come on Kiku, we must heroically pursue them." Alfred loudly declared, pointing in the direction the vehicle had gone.

Kiku rolled his eyes behind his partners back but hailed a taxi all the same.

()()()

Ivan shivered in his massive coat, and it was not because of the weather. No, it was because of the small woman in the blue and white dress gripping his arm to the point of cutting off the circulation in the unfortunate limb. Ivan tried to shuffle away from the clingy girl but she just squeezed his arm harder.

Eduard watched the scene with carefully hidden amusement. He knew that if Ivan saw even the slightest hint of joy from Eduard at his predicament the Estonian would pay dearly for it later. The trio were standing at a train platform, awaiting the train that would take Ivan's little sister far, far away. The hubbub of voices from the small crowds around them dressed heavily for the cold weather increased as a train came into view and Ivan let out a relieved sigh at the sign his torment was nearly over.

"Brother, do I really have to go? How will we get married if we're so far away?" Natalia asked Ivan, looking up to the tall man she was currently cutting the circulation off in his arm curiously, giving a harsh squeeze to inform him she wanted an answer now.

Ivan looked down to his sister and gave a strained smile, though Eduard knew the violet eyed Russian was creaming on the inside. "Natalia, if you do not go to see Katyusha then...ah..." Ivan sent a plaintive look at Eduard who hastened to form an answer that would save his employer and, by extension himself after the attractive but terrifying woman left.

"Uh, what mister Ivan is trying to say is that if you offend Katyusha somehow she will, ummm, maybe not be your bridesmaid?" Eduard finished weakly, giving a nervous grin to the Belarusian. Natalia glared at Eduard causing the unfortunate Estonian to quake in terror before sighing and releasing her brother's arm which had turned an interesting shade of purple beneath the jacket.

"Very well, but let us cherish these moments before I must depart." Natalia told Ivan fondly looking up at him through her eyelashes. Ivan sucked in a breath of air before gently pushing his sister towards the nearest entrance of the train, or at least as gently as he could considering the woman was digging her heels into the ground.

"No, no Natalia, you never know when these trains can leave if say the conductor were to forget to shout when he was supposed to and you end up missing the train completely." Ivan paused as he attempted to shove his sister onto the train only to have her grasp the frame of the entrance stubbornly and look back at him shyly.

"But brother, I would not mind staying with you awhile longer." She softly whispered, batting her eyelashes at him and causing several passerbies's to look enviously at the Russian man.

"I would." Ivan muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Natalia demanded darkly, her eyes taking on a sinister sheen and her fingers digging into the frame of the door with an audible cracking sound.

"Nothing dear sister nothing." Ivan quickly defended before finally managing to shove his sister onto the train and retreat a safe distance, the crowd having dispersed somewhat when those who had once looked to the show of one-sided affection a moment ago in envy had promptly fled after witnessing just a glimpse of the demon within the Belarusian. Said woman huffed slightly and turned around before blowing a kiss at her brother, who pretended to catch the imaginary kiss in his hand before waving goodbye. Natalia giggled and skipped away into the recesses of the train.

Once Natalia was out of sight, Ivan immediately rubbed his hand on Eduard's shirt in a blind panic to rid himself of even the possibility of there having been a piece of the woman's affection on it. Eduard for his part had frozen tensely as the Russian had performed the action before quickly pulling out a day planner and scribbling in 'burn shirt' in several large bold letters, underling it thoroughly three times in emphasis. Ivan checked his gloved hand and sighed in relief when it showed no signs of being tainted by the kiss before patting Eduard on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"You did very well today Eduard, very well. Now, let us leave and change my phone number before Natalia fills my answering machine again." Ivan smiled widely in his characteristic childlike manner before turning on his heel and starting toward the exit. "Then we can return to searching for the case." Eduard nodded enthusiastically and starting after the tall man, watching as Ivan pulled out a large bottle of Vodka from within his coat and took a long swig, a satisfied sigh escaping the Russians lips once he finished swallowing the Russian water.

Ivan had started drinking the strong alcohol compulsively and adamantly once Natalia had commented during one of her visits (aka, had phoned Ivan on her cell phone while he was in the shower and she was in the compartment beneath the sink) how she didn't like the smell on her brothers clothes and breath and that it was 'a major turn off'. Of course, after that Ivan had started drinking around her and eventually she had snatched the bottle from the Russians grasp before breaking it and holding the mostly intact and sharp half of the broken bottle at the Russian with a sadistic face, which had contrasted wonderfully with Ivan's terrified one, and had informed him that maybe Vodka did have its uses since he seemed to sleep so soundly after drinking it.

Ivan had stopped drinking around his sister after that, and also had not slept for approximately three days and four nights after the incident.

Ivan brought the bottle towards his lips for a second swig when someone rushed past him, jostling the man slightly and nearly spilling his drink. Ivan shot a furious glare, only for his expression to change to shock as Alfred, his mortal enemy, gave him a weak wave and an apologetic smile as he was dragged by him and Eduard by a huge man in a dark blue trench coat.

"Sorry sir." Alfred politely exclaimed before he and the giant blond with piercing blue eyes disappeared into the crowded station. Ivan remained rooted to the spot, even when Eduard gave him a curious glance.

"M-mister Ivan, are you well?" Ivan was silent before starting after where he though he saw the pair disappear into the crowd, Eduard hastening to follow though Ivan's mind was busy processing something else aside from his blond minion. Alfred's hand, the one that had waved at him,

It had been holding a case that had been manacled to his wrist. Ivan didn't know when Alfred had recovered the case, but since he had Ivan would terrifically enjoy removing the case from his foes corpse.

"Mister Ivan, there!" Eduard shouted having spotted the blond and surmised what had grabbed his employer's attention, breaking Ivan of his reverie. Ivan spun his head around to watch as that mop of blond hair disappeared into a train followed by a small man and a Korean for some odd reason. Ivan smiled darkly, advancing toward the train before he froze in mid step, his violet eyes widening in horror as the conductor shouted into the throng around Ivan from the door of the train the strange quartet had just entered.

"1:15 to Kiev, now boarding!" Ivan took a step back as his mind caught up with his instinctive fear that had denied him from boarding that train that the case he was after was on.

The same train his sister was on. Ivan pressed his clenched hands to his mouth in indecision. He wanted that case, but Natalia wanted him and on a train there were only so many places he could hide before she sniffed him out like a bloodhound. She had done it before and it had been rather traumatic.

"Mister Ivan, what's wrong?" Ivan's eyes shot to the Estonian beside him giving him a concerned but apprehensive look, the latter which intensified as Ivan's lips lifted into a wide smile and he grabbed the startled man before him with an iron grip, overruling the flight instinct that had begun to kick in Eduard's mind earnestly when he saw the smile.

"Eduard, dear Eduard. I have a job for you." Ivan sang. Eduard gulped loudly before beginning to shake softly. "You will get on the train and find Natalia, and then ask her to get the case from Alfred's wrist by any means. You will then bring the case to me; I will meet you at the usual spot in Kiev _Da_?" Eduard tried to shake his head no but in the midst of his general fearful quivering of the man it was lost. Ivan smiled widely before shoving Eduard onto the train, waving at him gleefully as the doors closed before sprinting away at a speed that belied his large size, ignoring the desperate pounding from the window of the train's door as he left it behind.

()()()

Alfred had not even waited for the cab to stop before he had leapt from the door of the still moving vehicle and had sped into the train station, his blonde hair flapping around his head like a golden halo as he shoved past surprised tourists as he ran in. Whipping his head from left to right but finding no trace of the Swede, who would have been nearly a head taller than most of the residents of the station would have been easy to spot, he instead ran over to any Train that had yet to leave and ran along their length, his eyes darting to the windows in search of the familiar figure of the man who had decked him in the face (which was really starting to hurt).

Abruptly, Alfred froze as he stared up into the cab of a train he was running along, a glass window framing the occupants of the booth. It was the Swede, the one who had punched him. Alfred scowled at the occupant before looking to the individual sitting across from Berwald only to see-.

Alfred gasped, his hands flying to his mouth in an expression of horror. No, it couldn't be.

But it was.

The Koreans!

Alfred stared, dumbstruck as the Asian glanced out the window and saw him. The short cropped but somewhat unruly hair (a complete opposite style from Kiku's bowl cut) of the Korean with its single errant curl tilted along with the man's head as he looked at Alfred before his face split into a wide grin and he began to wave enthusiastically at Alfred. Alfred scowled again, damn him, he was mocking him. Alfred raised his hand and pointed at the grinning Korean.

"Give me my god damn case you Commie bastard!" Alfred shouted as loud as he could. The Korean, in response to being unable to hear the other man due to the thick nature of the trains window instead pressed his face against the glass before puffing up his cheeks against it and making faces at the steadily growing angrier by the second American.

As Alfred began shouting obscenities at the Korean, the seated Swede finally decided to look and see what had taken the somewhat childish Asians, who had followed his charge around since he had picked him up attention, only to see Alfred pointing an accusing finger at Yong-soo. Scowling at the American, Berwald reached up and pulled down the cabs curtain, the fabric smacking Yong-soo slightly when he failed to move from the spot he was in quick enough.

Alfred paused in his shouting when he realized his audience had escaped before a loud whistle screamed across the train platform. Alfred glanced in the direction it had come from before looking back to the train, which was now in motion.

"No no no no no." Alfred exclaimed as he pounded on the side of the car, soon having to run to stay level with the window his quarry lay in until even his almost superhuman speed was no longer enough and he was left in the dust as the train sped away, a whistle blowing in the distance like a mocking cry to the American left standing dejectedly by the train tracks.

Alfred stayed standing there for a minute before he realised he had absolutely no idea where the train was heading. "Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Alfred screamed before reaching out and grabbing the nearest person he could.

"Quick, where's that train headed, when will it get there, who was on the train, what's my favourite colour!"

"Alfred-san, what are you doing to that child!" Kiku demanded, eying the American in shock as he took a deep breath, the run to where he had heard the Americans loud voice having winded him somewhat. Alfred glanced to Kiku, then back to the small chubby boy who couldn't have been older than seven years old looking at him with wide terrified eyes, his mouth hanging open in almost comical shock.

"I need to find out about that train." Alfred declared simply.

"Alfred-san, how on earth would he know, he's a child?" Kiku asked in exasperation before taking a step forward, only to pause as the American held up a hand forestalling the Japanese man.

"That's just what he wants us to think. He could be a communist midget, sent to spy on us." Alfred told his partner. Kiku sighed before moving forward once again and pulling the American off of the child, who ran away as soon as he was freed crying for his mother plaintively. "Damn, he's a good actor. Way to commit." Alfred muttered to himself as he watched the boy speed away. Kiku rolled his eyes before pointing down the tracks the train would have taken.

"That train is going to Kiev Alfred-san, it was being shouted by the conductor seconds before it left and you had begun to scream at the boy." Alfred opened his mouth into a wide circle of understanding before looking down the length of tracks as they disappeared into the distance. Kiku watched as the American stared into the distance before he pulled out a cell phone from his pocket.

"We should be able to find a plane to Kiev easily Alfred-san. We can get there without delay if we leave now." Alfred smirked before snatching the phone out of his Japanese friend's hand, jabbing his finger at various buttons with a wide grin on his face, his eyes twinkling in mischief.

"No way Kiku, I have a better idea." Kiku bit his lower lip nervously at the look in the Americans eyes before nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

This could only end badly.

**Oh wow, I rewrote that mirror scene about five times before becoming satisfied with it. It was such a pain. Natalia freaks me out but she's so fun to write. So, as always Read and Review if you please, it makes me happy you see.**


	6. Steamy Train Rides

** And now for something completely different yet oddly the same since it is, in fact, a linear story.**

Natalia leaned her chin into her palm, elbow resting on the window sill of her personal train cab. She gave a heartfelt sigh as the scenery gradually moved outside of her window taking her further and further from the object of her affection, her brother. She didn't understand why her brother was so reluctant to marry her, after all the fact that they were siblings didn't bother her in the least. Rather, she saw it as a sign from the heavens that she should be with her brother forever. After all, she was the only one who appreciated him, cared enough for him to stay by his side forever so why wouldn't he reciprocate her feeling?

Natalia let out another sigh before turning from the window, pulling her knees to her chin and resting her head against them, saddened by her depressing thoughts of leaving her brother alone without her supportive presence.

A gentle and hesitant knock on the cab door shook her from her depressing reverie and she glanced at the flimsy entrance sharply, her eyes narrowing into slits at having been interrupted and the possible intrusion.

"Go away." She hissed at the person beyond the door, irked beyond belief that someone would dare to try and bother her.

"Um, M-miss Natalia. I-it's Eduard." Natalia's eyebrow rose in intrigued surprise. Why would Eduard bother her?

"What do you want?" She demanded with an acidic tone, somewhat curious that the man was not with her brother but mostly annoyed. She hoped the man wasn't developing an interest in her, Toris had done so much to her irritation and she did not care for another of her brothers minions falling for her.

"It's something private. M-may I come in?" Natalia rolled her eyes in exasperation before sitting down properly and smoothing some of the wrinkles in her dress out to make herself presentable.

"Very well." The sound of the doorknob turning reached the Belarusians ears and the Estonian man soon entered quickly, closing the door silently behind him as though the woman before him would start at the slightest sound and tear his throat out viciously, which in all honesty was not too far from the truth.

Eduard stood before the somewhat small woman and fidgeted nervously, gulping nervously. "Ahem, ah, Mister Ivan asked me ask you to do a f-favour for him." Natalia's eyes lit up at the mention of her brother asking her to do something, it was exciting.

Natalia immediately hopped from her seat and backed Eduard into a nearby wall, her eyes sparking in anticipation while her hands clenched and unclenched. "What does big brother want me to do for him?" She demanded from Eduard. The bespectacled man had pressed himself firmly against the wall, trying to get as far away from the terrifying woman as he could.

"H-he wants you t-to g-get him a b-briefcase." He stuttered out, hands clenching the wall as though praying the wooden structure would swallow him and free him from the Belarusian. Natalia's face fell and she pouted at the simple task asked of her. It was not the first time Ivan had attempted to rid himself of her by sending her after some pointless errand, but still she was already out of his sight so the reason escaped her.

"That's stupid," she bit out before flouncing back to her seat and plopped down on it, clearly disgruntled, "why would he need me to pick him up a stupid briefcase?" She muttered to Eduard who, contrary to having the woman put more distance between them was even more panicked. An unhappy Natalia meant an unhappy and possibly bleeding everyone else.

"W-well that's just it; you see someone else has the case he wants." Natalia perked up slightly at that, now more than a little intrigued by the possibility that this act may actually have a further purpose from just keeping her occupied.

"Oh? But why does he need me to get it? Can't he just buy it?" Natalia asked curiously, trying to see how it was absolutely necessary for her to retrieve it. Eduard nervously tapped his index fingers together and looked anywhere but the woman glaring at him from across the cab.

"W-well normally yes. B-but there I-is a complication."

"Go on." Natalia encouraged/threatened. Eduard paled a little at the murderous air that entered the cab.

"W-well the person w-who has it m-may, is r-reluctant to p-part w-with it." Natalia nodded as realization dawned on her. She rose suddenly, prompting Eduard to jump a little and scoot away from her and the door. Natalia stalked over to the doorway and placed he hand on the knob before glancing to Eduard.

"What does he look like?" She demanded, her lips twitching in an insane urge to grin at the potential reaction she could receive from her brother once she brought him the case.

"Ah, yes. Well, he has straight blonde hair, of average height, has glasses and a flight jacket on. Oh, and the case is attached to his wrist by a handcuff." Eduard quickly described the woman's quarry, relief washing over his face at having something to direct Natalia's rage and somewhat insane personality away from himself, even going so far as to lose his stutter. Natalia nodded at the Estonian wordlessly before opening the door and exiting the cab. Once she was gone Eduard collapsed onto the unoccupied seat, breathing shallowly with his hand pressed over his heart.

()()()

Matthew abruptly shivered, a sense of foreboding moving through his body as he rubbed his arms in a pointless effort to disperse the cold that had settled in his bones for an inexplicable reason. Yong-soo noticed his discomfort with curiosity.

"Something wrong Mattie?" Matthew quickly shook his head to console his friend.

"No, no. I'm fine. Just a chill." He quickly explained, waving off the Korean's concern. Yong-soo looked him up and down before shrugging and returning to his PSP, furiously pushing the buttons and holding the small device at different angles as though trying to find which position best suited the frantic play style he had adopted. Matthew watched him for another moment (can elbows even bend that way?) before growing tired of being jabbed by the Koreans elbows and his attempts at contusions that would make member of the Cirque du Soleil jealous. With a sigh Matthew rose to his feet, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the case to ensure he would not have to drag it around behind him.

"Wh're you goin'." Matthew froze before glancing to the glowering Swede who had fixed the poor Canadian with an inquisitorial glare prompting the unfortunate Canadian caught in his cross hairs to shiver slightly in response.

"Just... going to the bathroom." Matthew nervously responded, giving a smile as weak as his excuse to the icy blue eyed man. Matthew believed that this response would be the most effective at garnering some privacy of which he had been bereft of in recent days due to his new situation of which he had no hand in causing yet still found himself subjected to.

Berwald stared at the blond, trying to fathom whether he was telling the truth or not before slowly nodding his head. Matthew sighed slightly, relieved at being given the go ahead as he carefully made his way around the Koreans legs while avoiding the flying joints and limbs of the raven haired male before settling his hand on the handle to open the door when he felt something grasp his arm. Matthew glanced over his shoulder to see Yong-soo giving him a concerned look, his hand being what had grasped his arm while the PSP lay forgotten on the seat.

"Yes?" Yong-soo retracted his hand before grasping the Canadians, pressing something cool and metallic into his friends palm with a sombre expression on his face.

"It's dangerous to go alone, take this." Yong-soo informed him before pulling his hands away from the Canadians. Matthew raised a curious brow to the unusually serious expression and action of the Korean man before looking down to what Yong-soo had pressed into his hand.

"...The hell?"

"Use it wisely." Yong-soo told him.

"It's a can of pop with McCol written on it." Matthew told his companion without expression, turning over the smooth cylinder in his hand and examining the other side. "And it's warm."

"It's my last one, and you can drink it warm so no worries." Yong-soo cheerfully explained before plopping back down on his seat and grabbing the PSP from the cushion, immersing himself in the game once again.

"... Riiiiiiight, okay then." Matthew stated, his sense of bewilderment being cast aside after another minute of staring at the can in perplexity before slipping it into his pocket in disinterest. Turning back around, he opened the door and slipped through, shutting it quietly after him.

Once outside the cab, Matthew took a look in both directions before deciding to head for the right, his shoes making barely any sound on the floorboards of the train as he moved. About ten minutes after he had begun his stroll down the hall, a curious feeling came over him. It was as though someone was jabbing knives into him with their eyes. Matthew shivered in response to the pure killing intent bearing down on him and surreptitiously glanced around, slowing his pace slightly to better analyze the hall around him.

It did not take the Canadian long to identify a pair of sharp blue eyes glaring at him from behind a door. Matthew took one inconspicuous glance at the murderous pair of eyes before wheeling about on his heel and walking the other way. Unfortunately, the telltale clicking of a pair of heeled shoes beginning to sound behind him informed the blond that he was, sadly, not fast enough to have escaped the individual who had been glaring at him. Matthew quickened his pace slightly, intending to speed back to his cab where he could properly seal himself from his pursuer but then, an unexpected obstacle down the hall presented itself.

"Tickets." A messy brown haired man wearing a blue uniform and holding a card puncher intoned in a bored voice, knocking on a doorway several meters away from the Canadian. Matthew froze, his hand not holding the case darting to the pocket of the flight jacket before patting down the rest of his body in a panicked frenzy before realization struck him.

Tino had his ticket.

Crap.

Matthew's eyes darted to his side to view who was following him to see a small woman with a dark expression marring her face, her slightly high heeled shoes having been making the clicking sound while she had been approaching him wearing a blue and white dress of a somewhat sombre design with a blue bow tied up in her hair.

She looked like she was heading to a funeral if not for her smile which stretched the corners of her lips in a manner that nearly defied physics and the muscular structure of the human body. Matthew glanced back to the man collecting tickets only to see him begin moving towards the room across from the one he had visited prior.

Panicking slightly at being caught between two people he really would rather avoid, Matthew did the only thing he could. He slipped into the nearest train cab and closed the door behind him. Matthew quickly glanced around the cab, two red stitched seats wide seats easily capable of accommodating at least two people comfortably were set against the walls framing the large window, to make sure that it was indeed empty which was fortunate because if it was not it would have been very awkward for him to have simply burst in unannounced.

Sadly, the Canadian barely had time to reassure himself that he was alone before that changed, the cabs door opening and shutting quickly. Matthew froze before slowly turning around, worrying his bottom lip. Too late did he realize it was very likely a bad idea to have taken refuge in the empty room, this realization coming to the fore as his eyes landed on the woman who now was wielding a rather lethal looking steak knife, the blade gleaming slightly as it caught the light from the large window behind Matthew.

There was a silence between the two individuals, the clatter of the train over the tracks the only sound until the woman spoke. "Do you know what I want?" Natalia asked almost gleefully, her grin still stretching her face slightly in a disturbing mockery of a smile. Matthew glanced back to the knife before his violet eyes returned to her face.

"You, want to sell me some steak knives for all my cooking needs?" He asked weakly, giving the terrifying woman a pathetic attempt of a smile of hope. Natalia's grin dropped into a scowl and she glared at the other Northerner.

"... No." She uttered icily, her hand clutching her knife somewhat harder in annoyance at the question.

"Damn, it's never about the knife." Matthew muttered to himself.

"I want that case." Natalia hissed, pointing at the briefcase Matthew still held in a death grip, quite literally it seemed considering how much people wanted it and the lengths they were willing to go through to get it.

"Oh, yes this case. Well, s-see. There's a problem with the case." Matthew answered, fidgeting slightly at the woman's glare which had suddenly grown far harsher than before.

"And the problem is...?" Natalia prompted coldly.

"Well, I can't really give it to you." Matthew nervously responded, holding the case out before him and the woman in an attempt to reveal the situation he was in. Natalia's eyes widened and she shot her hands forward, dropping the knife and snatching the bottom part of the case much to Matthews surprise, not even thinking that the woman would be so fixated on getting the case to the exclusion of everything else as to try and snatch it from his hands.

Heracles didn't even know why he worked for the railway company sometimes. The pay wasn't the best, there really wasn't any possibility for advancement and the job itself was boring and monotonous and don't even get him started on the people. They were all so boring, dull and frequently whiny about something or other that the Greek honestly couldn't care less and could do even less about.

Heracles huffed and took off his stiff blue round hat with a small brim and ran a hand through his somewhat curly but mostly straight brown hair in annoyance, recalling that it was thanks to his mothers prompting that he had taken the job. Of course, the job was fairly lax so he supposed he could struggle through for a time until he found something better.

With a shrug and roll of his green eyes, the Greek replaced the hat on his head and reached for the doorknob to the cab before pausing as voices from inside reached his ears prompting Heracles to raise an eyebrow curiously.

"Ow, don't pull so hard, it's attached to me you know!" Huh? Heracles drew his hand a little away from the doorknob in curiosity before glancing around the hall to see if there was anyone else to witness what he was hearing. Finding no one, Heracles slouched slightly deciding that the exchange behind the door was more interesting than his job and resolved to listen.

"I don't care, give it to me now!" Natalia hissed, tugging at the case only to have Matthew pull his wrist back, the cable connecting the two stretching between them.

"Ok look, I'll make you a deal. If you can take this off then you can have it." Matthew explained, pointing to the cuff on his wrist. Natalia gave him a wary look before examining the cuff critically, snatching the Canadians hand and bringing it closer to examine the lock carefully. Heracles, meanwhile, was leaning even closer to the door, his eyebrows having risen slightly on his forehead as his interest grew.

"Hmm, that's pretty big," Natalia commented, examining the cuff carefully, "but I think I can handle it." She added, glancing up at the Canadian with a serious expression.

"Be careful though. If you're too rough with it it could explode." Matthew cautioned Natalia. Natalia scoffed before picking her knife back up from where she had deposited it on the floor.

On the other side of the door, Heracles practically had his ear pressed against the wooden door to ensure he didn't miss anything, his hat becoming somewhat lopsided to ensure that it did not interfere with his endeavours.

"Excuse me sir, what are you doing?" Heracles whipped his head around in surprise at the voice, his cheeks having a light red tint from being caught listening. Across from him, watching the Greek curiously was a short man with pale short hair and curious brown eyes.

"Oh, I was just..." Heracles trailed off, his mind drawing a blank for reasonable explanations to his current position. The man's question was soon forgotten following another exclamation from the room Heracles had been pressing his ear against not moments prior.

"I think the holes too small; I doubt it's going to fit." Matthew told Natalia hesitantly as the woman tried to fit the tip of her knife into the small key hole of the manacle, the Canadian somewhat nervous as to what the woman's reaction would be but the possibility of removing the bomb from his wrist without having to travel across Europe being a powerful incentive for him to let her try. Natalia scowled, her brow knitted in concentration as she continued trying to fit the knife tip into the hole.

"Shut up, I've been doing things like this with my brother Ivan since the fourth grade; I know what I'm doing." Natalia hissed to the blond without looking up at him.

"Are they... having sex?" Heracles glanced to his side in surprise to find the man who had interrupted him squatting beside him, a small blush on his face as well as he stared at the door in front of them.

"I think so." Heracles whispered.

"Nice." The man whispered back before returning his efforts to listening for the next snippet of conversation.

"See, it won't fit." Matthew exclaimed, glaring at the small keyhole. Natalia frowned and pulled the knife from the lock while Matthew sagged a little in the train's seat, depressed at the failure though he tensed when he noticed the slight glimmer in the Belarusians eyes.

"Fine, we go back to plan A." She muttered gleefully to the Canadian.

"Do we have to?"

"Oh yes." Natalia hissed before yanking the knife back and stabbing forward. Matthew yelped and watched as the knife plunged toward him, the Canadian thanking god that his lean frame didn't fill out the jacket completely as he lunged to the side and the knife penetrated the jacket, pinning it to the seat behind him, lodging itself in the seat beside the Canadian.

"Damn, it won't come out." Natalia barked, trying to twist the knife out of the wall it was wedged in.

"What's going on in there?" Heracles jumped a little in surprise before twisting his head around to see that a small crowd of maybe seven people had gathered in curiosity as to what had captured the Greeks attention. Heracles gave a lazy blink at the small crowd before opening his mouth to respond to the question, which was once again drowned out when a loud ripping sound came from the room followed by the a grunt and slam of something striking the floor.

"This is getting good." The man next to Heracles commented as there was a repeating and measured slamming sound from inside the room of someone's skull impacting the hardwood floor of the cab which, sadly, was far less intimate as those outside (all of whom had settled in for the show aside from one) believed when compared to the actual fact that Matthew was currently struggling to shove the small woman off of him that was trying to cave his skull in using the floor as a bludgeon, her knife and a ripped portion of the Canadians jacket being embedded in the wall and no longer viable for murder. So, naturally she had wrapped her fingers around Matthew's throat to better maximize her ability to beat him against the floor boards.

Fortunately, Matthew had one thing on his side though it hadn't seemed so positive when he was younger. A single father who was often away from home that failed to buy the Canadian a helmet for his street hockey games against the other children of the neighbourhood and their ridiculous tendencies to stick the poor Canadian in the net. As such, Matthew had a very high tolerance for blunt force impacts to the head (along with a rather extensive dental bill and medical history involving stitches and fractured bones).

There was also a miscommunication during a game when the teams failed to recall the oh so essential tactic of shouting 'car' at the right time but that was a different issue entirely.

And so, when Natalia bent her elbows slightly in order to slam the unfortunate blond against the floorboards again Matthew took the opportunity to force his head upward, head butting the woman above him harshly causing her to fly backwards and grasp her forehead in pain.

"Fuck, that thing is hard." Natalia cursed darkly while giving a glare to the Canadians forehead as she attempted to stop the room from spinning.

"Grip... so tight..." Matthew managed to work out between gasping for air.

On the other side of the door, the group listening to the exchange had grown more interested and were craning their necks in an attempt to hear more. Their efforts were rewarded when the sound of an almost feral growl followed by a yelp of pain assaulted their ears.

"Ow. Teeth, teeth!"

"Shut up and take it like a man."

"How vulgar." A somewhat posh looking woman and member of the group posted at the door commented upon hearing the protest, turning to her husband scornfully. "You should tell them to stop; this is a train not a brothel." Her husband, a well dressed man did not even look at his wife, too fixated on the door and the grunts and hisses coming from it as he answered.

"Yes, quite." His wife frowned at him.

"Well, why don't you tell them to stop?" She demanded of her distracted husband.

"We should let them finish." He whispered in an attempt to placate the woman at his side which sadly failed abysmally.

"Why on earth wo-."

"Dammit woman, you are ruining this for me." Her husband hissed at her, a light blush decorating his cheeks. The woman looked shocked for a moment before huffing in displeasure and turning back to the door.

The crowd was silent after that as thuds, grunts and exclamations of pain resounded from the room before them before a sudden silence from the room.

"All right, round two." Came Matthew's breathless voice from inside the room.

"Bring it bitch." Natalia retorted from behind the door before the thuds and crashes began once again in earnest.

"He can go two rounds." One of the women idly commented approvingly to herself, receiving a glare from several of the assembled men for it before they returned to observing the door once they were satisfied that she was sufficiently chastised.

"Here it comes." Matthew exclaimed. The eavesdroppers turned to each other in confusion when the sound of a liquid moving rapidly reached their ears, followed by a hiss.

"What the hell, it's sticky and in my eyes!" Natalia shrieked furiously, followed by a pair of rapid footsteps and a dull thud. The listeners leaned forward, listening to the laboured breathing from a single individual in the room. After some shuffling from the room, a pair of footsteps began to make their way cautiously back toward the door. The eavesdroppers panicked when they realized that the show was over and that it would be very embarrassing to be caught in their current position and piled into the room opposite, leaving the hall empty of evidence of their activities.

The door of the room creaked open just as the one across it closed, Matthew sticking his head out to glance in both directions of the hall with a face flushed from the earlier exertion. After confirming that the hall was empty he slid out of the room, a hand gripping his pants up awkwardly while his clothes were in disarray and somewhat torn in various places.

Matthew took one last look into the room he was leaving, ensuring that Natalia was still indisposed with the bow from her hair being used to tie her hands together while the Canadians belt was currently occupied with ensuring her feet were in the same state. The can of McCol that Yong-soo had given him laid on the ground, empty, the contents of the can having been shaken and used to blind the Belarusian so that he could effectively knock her out without her biting him again. On a related note, the metal briefcase attached to his wrist had a small dent in it now.

"Sorry." Matthew told her without much sincerity before he shut the door and awkwardly waddled down the hall in the direction of his room, leaving the people in the room across from the one he had vacated to draw their own conclusions from the way the Canadian was walking as they peeked through the door and watched him leave.

()()()

Yong-soo yawned tiredly, stretching in the cab seat and ruffling his hair with his hands pointlessly before he lay down on the seat taking both his and Matthews spots seeing as the blond had been absent for a good thirty minutes, much to Tino's concern. Yong-soo had just waved it off when Tino had expressed his concern, saying that if the Canadian didn't want to be found they probably couldn't.

Yong-soo closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh before opening them again to look out the window

And see the man who had been shouting at him outside the train at the station. Yong-soo and the blue eyed blond stared at each other for a second before the Asian whipped his head to his side and hissed at Tino until the Finnish man awoke.

"Tino, Tino!"

"Mmn, wha... what is it." Tino blearily asked, rubbing his eyes in confusion.

"There's an American on the side of the train." Yong-soo urgently hissed at Tino. Tino blinked in confusion before turning towards the window, peering out of eyes still somewhat fuzzy from sleep.

"There's nothing out there." Tino finally informed Yong-soo with a sigh, burying his head back into the corner of his cab seat with an incomprehensible mumble. Yong-soo looked back to the window to see that there was in fact nothing out there.

Then Alfred swung by the window in a low arc.

"Tino, he's back!" Yong-soo exclaimed. Tino looked up again only to see that the American was gone again.

"Yong-soo, I'm tired." Tino complained before returning his head to the spot it had previously occupied, ignoring the ensuing commentary from the Korean.

"Quick, he's back. No, wait, there he goes again. He's back! He's back! Oh, wait. Never mind. He's back! Oh wow, he smacked his head on the window... Uh, I think he's dead."

"Good, maybe you can stop talking about him." Tino told the Korean, his voice slightly muffled by the seat.

"Wait, he's alive dazee. I think he's... ya, ya he's definitely flipping me off."

"Fantastic."

"Oh, there he goes. He's gone now." Yong-soo mentioned offhandedly, watching as the American swung away from the window.

At that moment, the door of the cab opened to reveal Matthew with his ripped clothes, cuts from overly sharp nails and holding his pants up with a hand. The three occupants of the room turned to the dishevelled blond, Berwald awakening from his own nap to do so, and the trio observed the haggard appearance of the Canadian with a mixture of surprise, concern and threat (but that was just how Berwald looked).

"Holy crap, what the hell happened to you?" Matthew didn't answer immediately, instead he wandered over to where his seat was and plopped down, Yong-soo pulling his legs away immediately so as not to be crushed by the Canadian.

"I would really, really rather not talk about it."

"... 'Kay." Berwald finally intoned before returning to sleep, leaning his head on Tino much to the Fins surprise and discomfort as the Swedish man's head began to crush Tino. As though that had solved all issues concerning the Canadians current state there were no other protests (though in Tino's case it was possibly because his head was currently stuck between a rock and a Swedish place).

Matthew turned to Yong-soo after another minute, a pleading look on his face. "Do you, maybe have a spare belt?"

()()()

"Is he alright?" Kiku turned to the pilot of the helicopter that Alfred had hired from Moscow, the visor of the helmet obscuring the man's eyes while his hands were occupied with holding the aircraft steady, which Kiku appreciated. Kiku glanced out of the doors of the helicopter, following the cable that lead from the winch on the floor to the American currently swaying several feet down from them.

"I believe he is unconscious, could you please hold steady while I bring him up?" Kiku asked the pilot politely. The man gave a thumbs up before returning to the controls, the Japanese man waiting until he felt the floor beneath him steady out before grabbing a control hanging from the wall and pressing a green button. With as mechanical whirr the winch began to spin, pulling the cable up slowly and bringing Kiku's partner as well by extension.

After several minutes of the whirring sound, Kiku released the button before bodily heaving the American onto the chopper, unfastening Alfred from his harness before fastening him to one of the seats while berating the blond softly so that he would not actually wake up and hear.

"Honestly, trying to board a train from a helicopter was just foolish Alfred-san. 'But I saw it in a movie' is not reasonable ground for attempting such a reckless feat." Kiku knowingly left out the part that he had done little to dissuade the man, seeing it as rude to shatter the Americans dreams of being lowered onto a moving train before finding and capturing his duplicate, then escaping back onto the helicopter.

Kiku was just glad Alfred was passed out or he would likely try again.

After ensuring that Alfred was secure in his harness, Kiku moved to the seat beside him and strapped himself in as well before leaning into the cockpit. "If you could please take us to Kiev now we would greatly appreciate it." Kiku shouted to the pilot, who gave him a thumbs up to show that he understood before the helicopter gave a slight lurch and Kiku settled back into the seat contentedly, happy that the mission was now once again on schedule.

()()()

Eduard drummed his fingers on his knees, glancing nervously at the door of the cab now and then as though expecting the devil himself to burst from it with the legions of hell at his heels which, to Eduard at least would actually find preferable from the woman he was actually waiting for in the confining cab. Eduard glanced out the window, seeing the outline of Kiev through and startling the man fiercely when he realized that Natalia should have returned by then.

Reluctantly, Eduard rose from his seat and opened the door of the cab, exiting slowly and crossing the hall to edge the door across from his open slightly, peering inside to see if the Belarusian he wanted yet did not want to find at any cost.

Eduard continued on in this manner for a good twenty minutes until he felt the familiar rumble of the train, indicating that it was slowing to prepare and stop and disembark the passengers. Eduard began to move faster, panicking slightly at the possibility of not actually having either Natalia or the man carrying the case with him for when he would meet up with Ivan.

Eduard was nearly ready to give up when he pulled the door open of a random cab and froze as a pair of absolutely livid blue eyes glared furiously at him from the seat of the cab. Eduard froze in the door as he assessed Natalia's predicament, noting the way she was tied up using the bow from her hair and... a belt?

"Eduard, get your ass over here right now and untie me god damn it." Natalia screeched at the poor Estonian. Eduard flinched at the grating voice of the blond, why oh why couldn't her captor have gagged her too.

"O-of c-course m-miss Natalia." Eduard immediately answered, hurrying over to the woman and accidentally kicking a can across the floor as he knelt by her, unfastening the belt from her feet before moving to the one on her hands. "I-I'll get you out o-of t-this in j-just a s-second." Natalia growled but remained silent until the bespectacled man had succeeded in untying her.

"God damn bastard... cheap shot..." Natalia growled, rubbing her wrist and wincing as the blood flowed back into her hands before snatching up the bow and wiping off the left over McCol that was on her face. "He's gonna pay." She hissed to herself.

"M-miss Natalia a-are you o-okay?" Eduard nervously asked the woman, flinching again as she turned her gaze on him.

"No Eduard, I am not fine. Not at all." Natalia spat as she rose from the seat, stalking over to where a knife was embedded in the seat across from the one she was seated on. With a sadistic smile, the Belarusian grasped the knife and wrenched it from the wall with a few sharp tugs, looking at the blade happily while Eduard nervously fidgeted behind her at the aura of bloodlust radiating from the woman before him. "But I will be when I cut off that god damn bastards arm and mount his hand as a fucking trophy." Natalia purred darkly, caressing the knife like one would a lover. "Then I will deliver the case that brother wants and we will be married, and all that this requires is for one asshole of a man to die." Natalia cackled before going into full blown manic laughter, hiding the knife in her sleeve once she had finished her monologue.

"Now Eduard," the Estonian stiffened as the woman turned her icy blues on him, "when will we arrive in Kiev?"

Eduard blinked owlishly at the woman. "O-oh, well a-actually we arrived w-while you w-were l-laughing..."

"... You idiot!" Natalia railed at the unfortunate stuttering man, who cowered before the furious woman in fear of her brandishing her knife though she kept the blade sheathed. "Come on, I'm not going to lose that son of a bitch like this."

"Y-yes miss Natalia." Eduard immediately responded, following the woman as she swept out the door.

**Arrrrgh, I'm so sorry this took so long but that scene with Canada and Belarus was just so frustrating to write. Kudos to those who figure out where I gave up on it and just moved on with the story. It was really hard to get innuendo from two people fighting and I hope I didn't screw it up with the shifting perspectives but I don't know if it worked at all.**

**The McCol thing was something I took off the web comic that involved Korea offering China some, I just used it because it seemed to work.**

**So, ya. Read and Review please I would really like to know whether or not that scene worked at all.**


	7. Huge Tracks of Land

_**And this is where we left off.**_

"_Now Eduard," the Estonian stiffened as the woman turned her icy blues on him, "when will we arrive in Kiev?"_

_Eduard blinked owlishly at the woman. "O-oh, well a-actually we arrived w-while you w-were l-laughing..."_

"_... You idiot!" Natalia railed at the unfortunate stuttering man, who cowered before the furious woman in fear of her brandishing her knife though she kept the blade sheathed. "Come on, I'm not going to lose that son of a bitch like this."_

"_Y-yes miss Natalia." Eduard immediately responded, following the woman as she swept out the door._

"Come on, come on lets go. Things to do, places to go." Matthew urged, pushing Yong-soo forward in an attempt to hasten the other mans disembarking and by extension Berwald and Tino's as the two Nordic men were in front of the Korean.

"I'm going, I'm going geeze." Yong-soo retorted as he hopped off the last step of the train and onto the platform, his feet barely hitting the cement before Matthew was again pushing him forward. "Why are you in such a hurry anyway?" He asked, turning his head to observe the somewhat frantic and suspicious way Matthew was scanning the people around them. This opinion was heightened when the Canadian let loose a nervous laugh at his friends comment.

"W-well it's just that it seems like a bad idea to stay anywhere for too long right Tino?" Matthew looked to the Finn for support, receiving a nod from the other man. Matthew smiled in relief as he turned to Yong-soo. "See, told you." Yong-soo eyed his friend sceptically before huffing in resignation, turning away from the Canadian to pout childishly in peace.

Berwald abruptly paused, forcing the other men to do so as well lest they run into him. The Swedish man slowly turned his head to examine Yong-soo and Matthew with his typical piercing blues, ensuring that they were paying attention to him.

"I'm goin' t' call our ride, st'y h're." He glared at the duo until they gave him a pair of quick and terrified nods to demonstrate their approval. Berwald grunted in acknowledgement before turning to Tino, jerking his head in the direction of several pay phones attached to the red brick wall.

"Oh, ok Berwald. Just hang tight for a minute we'll be right back." Tino encouraged before following the taller man in the direction of the payphones, Matthew and Yong-soo letting loose a breath they had not realized they had been holding when the Giant departed their immediate presence.

"Christ that guy scares the crap out of me." Yong-soo informed his friend, who shrugged in reluctant agreement.

"Well, he's not too bad." Matthew blinked at the shock filled wide eyed stare he was receiving from his Korean cohort. "... What?"

"Seriously? Good god man what happened on that train to help you grow a pair?" Yong-soo curiously enquired. Once Matthew had chased away his paler complexion at being reminded of the unfortunate incident he had been involved in during the ride to Kiev he gave an irate glare at the Korean for his comment.

"Hey!"

"What?" Yong-soo asked, holding his hands up defensively, "it's true. I mea- what's that sound." Matthew was about to ask what he meant when he too heard the rather out of place noise for such a large train station. It reminded him of something made of rubber, however when Matthew actually saw what was making the sound he knew it was certainly not rubber. Plastic may be involved but definitely not rubber, Matthew wasn't entirely sure but in his defence it was the first time a woman's... assets have had such a distinct sound.

"Ho-ly crap." Yong-soo exclaimed once he finally located the pale blonde haired woman wearing a pair of blue overalls, the top of which was hidden by a thin grey coat which rode a little higher than it was likely supposed to considering the ample 'tracks of land' she clearly possessed. "Do you think they're real?" Yong-soo whispered to Matthew frantically.

"W-what, how should I kn-know." Matthew retorted, somewhat flustered by the question and the fact that he was trying to deny having stared. Yet, even with this sense of denial he was attempting to propagate he inexplicably found his violet eyes going back to her. As he examined her further while making absolutely sure that his eyes remained above her neckline regardless of how hard it was a feat to accomplish he noticed the slight tears pricking the corners of the woman's light blue eyes and the way her lower lip trembled slightly in worry, her knuckle occasionally being pressed to her mouth in an attempt to not cry out her concern. The woman was clearly upset and oh god she was looking right at him.

"She's coming this way." Yong-soo hissed, his eyes drifting between Matthew and her while his face was becoming increasingly flushed.

"Ok, be cool. And stop staring." Matthew admonished as quietly as he dared.

"I... can't..." The Korean responded, breathing deeply.

"Argh, just don't talk. Let me do all the t-talking." Matthew whispered back, Yong-soo enthusiastically nodding though it may have had something involving the manner of which the woman s bust moved as she walked towards them rather than any attempt at agreeing with the Canadian. Matthew took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself as she watched her approach until the pale haired blond stood before them, biting her lower lip nervously while she wrung her hands, attempting to muster the courage to speak.

Katyusha wasn't really sure why exactly she had approached the pair, only that she had a feeling that they may have been able to help her. There was an awkward silence, both parties waiting for the other to make the first move as the Ukrainian was too shy to initiate the conversation since it had taken nearly all of her courage just to approach the pair while the duo in question were busy trying not to say anything that was actually presenting itself to their flustered minds such as 'my what an impressive size you are, might I enquire as to whether you have had implants or are you an all natural type of woman' or 'I say (monocle pops) I am surprised. If I told you that I had never seen such an impressive burst would you hold it against me?' as such no one was talking and it was growing steadily more awkward.

Oddly enough, it was Yong-soo who broke the ice, it would have been literally too had there been any ice on the ground when he abruptly and stiffly fell forward, slamming his face into the cold pavement much to the surprise of both Matthew and Katyusha.

"O-oh my, is he ok?" Katyusha asked in surprise, reaching towards the prone body before pausing without actually toughing him, her hands hovering slightly away from her before she drew them back uncertainly, unsure if it was her place to offer aid.

"Ah, yes. Don't worry he's fine. So..." Matthew began awkwardly, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly more so to ensure that his chin was not dipping so as to bring his eyes down to her chest than for any sort of attempt at ocular correction, "d-did you want to talk to me?" Matthew really hoped he didn't come across like some sort of star struck shy high schooler confessing to the popular cheerleader by his locker between classes only to realize that she was, as a matter of fact, dating the quarterback. This realization tragically coming to him as his face made a rather flattering rendition of him in one of the flimsy lockers of the school thanks to said quarterback, creating a rather intriguing mystery to whichever student had the locker the following year. And that student would go on to become Nancy Drew.

Well, the last bit was a complete crock but that was beside the point as the effect that Matthew was concerned of did not in fact come to pass as Katyusha merely looked away once again to examine her playing fingers to avoid his inquiring eyes.

"Um, well, it's just that... w-which train did you come off o-of." Katyusha nervously asked the young man before her. Matthew for his part stiffened slightly at the question, his fingers tightening on the case in his hand.

"The one from Moscow." Matthew slowly stated. Katyusha visibly brightened at the admission and pressed her hands together in a pleading manner.

"Really, you did? Did it just arrive?" Katyusha quickly asked, her eyes glimmering with hope. Matthew leaned back slightly at the sudden change of demeanour, golden eyebrows rising slightly in suspicion.

"I'm sorry but who are you?" Katyusha started in surprise, blue eyes widening in shock before dropping to her hands in shame.

"O-oh right, I'm sorry. My n-name is Katyusha it's nice to m-meet you." Katyusha shyly informed the Canadian, cautiously extending her hand and seeming to nearly reconsider it a few times judging by the manner she paused several occasions before finally committing herself. Matthew slowly reached out and shook her hand.

"Hi, my name's Matthew," Matthew told her, taking some comfort in the meek manner that she shook his hand, "and yes, I just got off the one now." Katyusha lit up even more than before at the other blond's admission.

"Really. Did you maybe see my sister? She was supposed to be on the train but she hasn't come off yet and I'm becoming worried. She was coming to visit me today." Matthew tapped his chin in thought. Admittedly he had been busy while on the train trying to stay alive and avoid having his arm forcefully removed but he had seen a few people while he had been boarding so there was a slight possibility.

"Maybe, could you describe her?" Matthew requested politely. Katyusha vigorously nodded in the affirmative, smiling brightly at the Canadian prompting a light brush of pink to dart across his cheeks at Katyusha's enthusiasm and the fact that her chest made that intriguing noise for a moment or two.

"Of course. She has really light blond hair about, umm, a shade lighter than mine," Katyusha pointed to her short cut hair for emphasis until Matthew nodded in understanding and gestured for her to continue, "she's about a head shorter than me and likes to wear blue and white dresses, a blue bow in her hair and... um..." Katyusha trailed off thoughtfully. Matthew, for his part, had stiffened visibly, the description provided by the well endowed woman painting a rather clear picture of someone the Canadian would dearly like to avoid since he had left her trussed up on the train earlier.

"Does your sister have blue eyes, longish hair, and a tendency to try and stab, strangle and or bite people?" Matthew slowly asked. Katyusha stared at Matthew for a moment, his question slowly filtering into her brain. Abruptly, Katyusha made a deep bow, her face rather red as she apologized to the surprised Canadian.

"Oh god I'm so sorry for what she did, I have no idea sometimes why she does these things but I am so sorry and I really hope she didn't hurt you." Matthew was surprised and would have loved to berate the woman for her sisters actions and had he been anyone else he likely would have but his damn Canadian politeness sadly did not permit him to perform random acts of verbally abusing innocent victims of circumstance outside of their knowledge and control in addition to himself having been in her situation more times than he would like to admit where he had been forced to apologize for a family members tendency to the rude and often violent.

"No, no I'm fine your sister was just very... eager to speak with me." Matthew reassured her quickly. Katyusha slowly raised her head, blinking her eyes owlishly and Matthew cringed slightly when he noticed the dampness of her eyes indicating she was almost ready to cry.

"So... she didn't hurt you?" Katyusha asked, almost pleading to be reassured that, despite the overwhelming odds her sister had actually behaved like a sane person amongst normal society and adhered to the rules that were set out therein.

"No, no. She seemed... nice. We talked alot." Matthew reassured her, catching himself when she began to straighten, the telltale noise of her bust informing him that he should return eye contact lest he fall prey to the trap she inadvertently set for him.

"Oh thank goodness. I've had to practically raise her and my little brother so I always worry about them and the trouble they get into. Do you know why she isn't here yet?" Matthew bit his lower lip in concern as the truth being that he had trussed her sister up and left her on the train in the hopes she wouldn't be noticed and taken back to Moscow but... well, he generally liked the Ukrainian even though he had only known her for a short while. Besides, he didn't have to tell her everything and ideally he would be gone by the time she dug her sister out anyway.

"Well, she was a little... indisposed when I left her so that may be what's taking so long. But she is on the train so she should still be there." Hopefully, Matthew silently added to himself. He would seriously prefer to not encounter the disturbing young woman again, particularly after how he had left her.

"Thank you very much Matthew I really appreciate it. I have to get her before the train leaves again, goodbye." Katyusha gave another slight bow again eliciting the slight bouncing sound from her chest once again which was growing much harder for the Canadian to try and ignore at this point.

"G-goodbye." Matthew uttered as he gave a weak wave to the Ukrainian as she practically skipped away, Matthew watching her go and realizing that dammit she had a very nice rear as well. He sighed in a mix of disappointment and relief at seeing her leave before he glanced to the unconscious Korean on the ground, Yong-soo having remained in that position throughout the conversation. With another sigh he lightly nudged the unconscious Asian with his foot, eliciting a groan of pain before Yong-soo forced himself onto his hands and knees, slowly rising to his feet while rubbing his nose tenderly.

"Ow."

"I would imagine. Anyway, what was that about?" Matthew asked, gesturing at the Koreans face in an attempt to articulate the entire episode of events which had led to the Korean becoming intimately acquainted with the cement ground. Yong-soo smiled sheepishly at the Canadian and averted his eyes nervously. Matthew arched a golden eyebrow curiously at the normally outspoken Koreans reaction to his query but did not retract it. "I mean, usually you would just distract her and," Matthew grimaced slightly, "'claim her breasts' for Korea. So... ya."

Yong-soo grinned and clasped his hands behind his back, bouncing slightly on his heels. "Well I mean ya, I would but, well..."

"Go on." Matthew encouraged, very curious now about what exactly would make the Korean so awkward.

"It was so beautiful." Yong-soo cried, dropping to his knees and raising his arms to the sky as though praising Katyusha's assets to the heavens much to Matthew and several passerby`s surprise. "I mean you could literally hear them as they moved!" Yong-soo shot to his feet and grabbed the Canadians shoulders, Matthew's eyes shooting from side to side in a panic. "You could fucking hear them! I couldn't handle it, it was perfection. I froze up, I couldn't react and freaked out and in my moment of weakness I fell over thanks to the sudden weight of my massive erec-."

"Stop, dear god stop!" Matthew bellowed, knocking Yong-soo's hands off his shoulders, rubbing his own arms as though trying to scrub the words of admission he had just been assaulted by off of him. Matthew shuddered at what Yong-soo had been about to impart to him on why he had fallen down.

"Mattie, you ok?" Yong-soo asked in concern, the Canadians outburst sufficient to break him out of his freak out.

Matthew thrust out a hand to forestall the Korean from continuing speaking. "Quiet, I need silence in order to sufficiently suppress what you just told me... its seared to my mind." Matthew sighed slightly and slumped his shoulders. "Well damn now I have to live with that incredibly awkward confession. Thanks." Matthew told him accusingly, pointing at the other man. Yong-soo gave his friend a sheepish smile before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Heh, sorry."

"As well you should be now, let us hopefully forget that this ever happened and never speak of it. Ever." Matthew spoke with grim finality and a sharp look at the unfortunate Asian, Yong-soo eagerly nodding in agreement at the threatening look cast his way.

"Matthew, Yong-soo are you ready to go?" The pair turned to see Berwald and Tino returning, the Finn being the one who had greeted them and was sending a pleased smile which Matthew and Yong-soo returned eagerly, glad for a distraction and potential to put the entire unfortunate conversation they had had behind them.

"Yes."

"Where we going?" Yong-soo curiously enquired, tilting his head in interest as the two Nordic men stopped in front of them.

"We're having some friends," Berwald grunted and scowled a little more but said nothing else, "give us a ride to Warsaw. It should make it harder to track us." Tino reasoned, smiling lightly in an attempt to reassure the two men before him.

It didn't work. At least not completely since Yong-soo was smiling happily at having the possibility of more people to talk to and possibly inform them of how so many everyday items that they used in fact originated in Korea while Matthew had paled noticeably at being reminded of the efforts which certain individuals were putting forward to locate him and, as he had recently discovered, the lengths they would go to in order to retrieve the case he had.

As it was, he was torn between two conflicting thoughts. Namely whether he should be more concerned about how people were trying to cut off his arm and how the object they were after was liable to explode. In the end, he decided to just follow Berwald and Tino and pray that he managed to live through the whole ordeal and come out of it still able to edit Wikipedia using both hands.

"All right, let's go dazee!" Yong-soo enthusiastically declared to his companions and anyone within shouting distance who gave him some queer looks though the Korean paid no heed. Matthew meanwhile was rubbing his forehead in irritation at the attention his Asian compatriot was drawing to them which he did not need in the least.

"Let's just go." Matthew mumbled, following Berwald immediately after the Swede gave an affirmative grunt and headed off towards the entrance of the train station, Tino and Yong-soo following after like a bunch of ducklings after their mother which was a comparison they were all thinking but dared not voice to the Swede as they were terrified of his reaction. As such, the quartet were silent as they made their way to the entrance of the train station, Matthew not even commenting when a man bumped into his shoulder, spinning the Canadian slightly before both moved on their ways without further comment.

Once they reached the curb of the street Berwald froze as though he had walked into a wall, halting directly in front of the divider between sidewalk and road and causing the three men behind him to scramble and not accidentally push the big man into traffic or fall themselves. Once they had properly realigned themselves along the side walk the four men stood, waiting for what two of them assumed would be their ride. After approximately a good five minutes of waiting a powder blue car pulled up, rolling to a stop just past where Berwald stood, the Swedes piercing blues never straying from the vehicle as it paused be the road, two men exiting.

The first had light blond hair and wore a matching blue sailor top, pants and hat with a Nordic cross barrette. The man showed little emotion, reminding Matthew of the man who had called them prompting the Canadian to sneak a peek at Berwald who was staring fixedly at the second man.

The second man was fairly the polar opposite of his companion, having short but wild blonde hair and a black coat trimmed with red along the cuffs and collar. A cocky smirk was set on his lips and his head tilted slightly back as though looking down on the men before him which would have been almost unnecessary as he was easily taller than almost all the people there aside from Berwald and perhaps Matthew.

"Hey Berwald, whatcha doin'?" The cocky blond greeted, waving slightly at the massive man. Berwald gave a curt nod towards in response to the greeting.

"Mat'ias," Berwald greeted before turning his head to the emotionless visage of the beret wearing man, "Norg'." The stoic man gave a curt nod of acknowledgement before turning his gaze to Matthew, who fidgeted slightly under the pinning gaze of the Norwegian. Norge stared at him for a moment before looking back to Berwald.

"We came, get in the car." Norge told the men on the sidewalk, the Norwegian clearly not one to mince words when he did not feel like it. Berwald started forward immediately after the instruction, the other following afterwards with a cautious look at the still grinning Mathias, who was examining them curiously as one would a new toy.

Norge watched as they approached the car before turning to Mathias, the Danish man instantly turning as though a psychic connection informed him the other blond wished to speak to him. Norge pointed to Mathias, his facial expression not altering from the look of bored contention he had adopted since their meeting. "In the back Mathias." He told the Dutch man shortly, completely unaffected by the sudden crestfallen visage that replaced the cocky one on the other Nordic's face.

"What? But why?" Mathias demanded, huffing in annoyance at having been told what to do as a scowl overtook his face. Mathias crossed his arms stubbornly while Matthew halted beside him, unsure of what to do in response to the argument but deciding to adopt a neutral position of standing near enough to enter the car if prompted but not close enough to appear threatening to the Dane. "I don't want to; make him sit in the back." Mathias told his compatriot stubbornly, not moving under the unflinching gaze of the Norwegian. Norge said nothing, but neither did he turn away. "...Oh come on Norge it's like a twenty hour drive I don't wanna be in the back." Mathias whined. The Norwegian said nothing, but did start glaring a bit causing Mathias to scowl darkly before throwing his arms up in the air.

"Fine, Christ whatever." Mathias barked before skulking off to the backseat, sliding in with a scowl. The Canadian, for his part, heaved a sigh of relief for not having to seat in a cramped backseat with his loud Asian friend and the perpetually angry Swede before entering the passenger side, nestling into the seat somewhat awkwardly as anyone who has ever been in an unfamiliar locale for the first time would. This was only heightened when the Norwegian stepped into the driver's side, shutting his door before turning his head to examine the Canadian fixedly, much a she had when he had first set eyes upon him.

Matthew gave Norge an unsure smile before stretching an arm over to shake the other man's hand. "Hi, I'm Matthew Williams; it's nice to meet you." Norge glanced to the proffered hand before returning his gaze to Matthew without making any attempt to reciprocate the friendly gesture.

"I see the shadow of death hovering over you." Norge informed the Canadian dispassionately before turning away from Matthew, starting the car with a low hum while the other blonds smile fell completely and he let his hand drop listlessly onto the case placed securely on his lap.

Matthew regretted changing seats with the Dane now.

()()()

"Where is he?" Natalia hissed, her eyes darting around the crowded platform furiously in an attempt to spot the man from the train. "How could he be gone already?" Natalia hissed rhetorically, Eduard shaking slightly as he was unsure if he should answer anyway to help her find her quarry or just remain silent and attempt to disappear into the cement and crowd until she had calmed down. Of course the latter option was closed off to the Estonian as Natalia had many problems with letting things go as Ivan could well attest. As such, Eduard was extremely fortunate that Katyusha took that opportunity to spot them and rush over, wiping off a stray tear that was escaping her eyes while her chest did its atypical bouncing noise.

"Oh Natalia there you are I was so worried!" Katysuha gushed, enveloping her sister in a warm hug which Natalia returned somewhat weakly, the younger woman not for outward displays of emotion unless it applied to her brother and it was apparent how out of practice she was when she did so as she always went over the edge of propriety, often involving the loss of someone's property.

"I'm fine sister." Natalia coldly reassured her sister. To be fair, it was a several degree warmer than one that she used with anyone else aside from her brother and, as such Katyusha smiled affectionately as she released her sister and cast her blue eyes up and down the Belarusian, her expression morphing slowly into a light frown as her forehead furrowed in concern at the state Natalia's clothes and appearance overall was.

"Natalia, what happened to you?" Katyusha exclaimed, fussing over the other girl like a mother hen in worry while Natalia's scowl deepened at the question. Honestly, she hadn't even considered her appearance as she was too fixated on tracking down the Canadian who had thwarted her. How dare he try to keep his arm from being chopped off by her, selfish bastard that he was.

"I met someone on the train." Natalia rumbled, her eyes narrowing and hands clenching and unclenching as though she could actually feel the scrawny neck of the former college student in her grip, squeezing the life from him in an effort to snuff out the life of the man who had been the source of her ire for-.

"Oh yes I know. He seems nice." Katyusha brightly informed her sister, smiling happily at the memory or her meeting earlier that day.

Natalia whipped her head around to pin Katyusha with a glare. "What!" She demanded furiously.

"Oh yes. Matthew and I had a very nice chat. He told me he met you on the train and talked for awhile. He was very polite." Katyusha told Natalia pleasantly, clapping her hands before her ample bosom happily as though the very memory of the conversation was a source of great joy. Eduard snorted in amusement, covering his mouth with his hand lest he let loose the loud mocking laugh that he was trying to repress with all the self control he had in his possession. He knew that if he laughed he would likely be torn to pieces by the Belarusian and considering his desire for self preservation it was no mean feat to have caused the timid Estonian to even let out the slight chuckle.

Fortunately, Natalia was too busy staring at her sister in absolute shock while her body slowly shook in fury to pay any heed to the Estonian. "You spoke to him?" Natalia asked again, believing that what her sister may have told her was merely a delusion caused by the undoubtedly unfortunate head trauma she suffered on the train after the altercation with the Canadian.

"Yes. I asked him if you hurt him but he said he was fine." Katyusha quickly explained, mistaking her sisters concern for worry that she had left a bad impression on Matthew. Natalia was livid. He was mocking her! Saying that she didn't hurt him, well she would show him next time they met and with Natalia that was a certainty, not some idle threat.

"Sister, what happened to you?" Natalia's eyes opened wider than she believed possible and she whipped her head around for the second time in as many minutes to regard her brother Ivan, his normally childlike expression replaced with one of surprise as he examined her while Raivis stood nearby, glancing between the siblings with worry.

Natalia, suddenly becoming self conscious of her appearance before the one person who she actually cared about making a good impression on crossed her arms in front of her and tried to make herself smaller beneath her brothers probing gaze.

"Little Ivan, what are you doing here?" Katyusha asked in surprise, cocking her head to the side curiously as she examined the tall Russian before her. "I thought you were staying in Moscow?" Katyusha continued, glancing meaningfully at Natalia. Ivan started, recalling exactly who the Belarusian was and what she wanted form him which had been made all too clear the time he had woken in the middle of the night finding Natalia tying his leg to the bed post, his other leg and arm having been already tied off.

The breakfast in bed had been decidedly awkward.

"Yes, I was but I asked Natalia to pick 'something' up and would really like to have it." Ivan grimaced slightly and took a deep breath in, a strained smile forcing its way on his face as he turned to Natalia. "So, sister dear," Ivan gagged slightly, "do you have it?" Natalia scowled darkly, the temperature around the five dropping slightly.

"No bother I do not," Natalia slowly stated before directing her gaze to Ivan, her expression hardening into a resolved image of determination, "but I will, for it is a task you have given me and after encountering Matthew Williams I understand that you are testing my resolve to be with you. Do not worry brother; I will bring you the case even if I have to chase Matthew," she spat the name as though every syllable repulsed her, "to the ends of the earth. I will succeed or die; and his severed hand will bear the ring to our wedding." Natalie finished viciously, holding up a clenched fist to indicate her resolve to finish the task physically in case her words were not enough to convey the feeling.

Ivan stood before his sister, utterly stunned by what he had heard, his mind attempting to sort through the information which had been rapidly fired at him from his sister's lips. Ivan stood silently before his face cracked open with a wide grin of utter joy, catching nearly everyone present off guard as it was an expression he had rarely, if ever, shown while having the issue of marriage to his sister presented to him.

"Of course sister I have the utmost faith in you and do not worry, I will be sending Raivis with you to help you find him." Natalia started at the words before she scowled slightly.

"I do not need assistance brother; I can do it on my own." Natalia politely told her love, her cold eyes drifting over the short man before returning to Ivan's cheery expression. Ivan sighed somewhat dejectedly but Eduard and Raivis could clearly hear the joy still present in his tone.

"Very well sister, I wish you luck then." Ivan cheerfully declared before abruptly spinning on his heel, waving at the two men to follow him. Natalia watched her love walk away before turning towards the exit of the train station, her heart fluttering with the validation her brother had given her for her task as she rushed towards the exit of the train station, Katyusha close behind asking her to slow down so that she could get her sister a bath and change of clothes.

Ivan strode off, giddy with excitement as he drummed his fingers together impatiently. Eduard and Raivis exchanged a look of befuddlement at their employer's joyous nature as they hurried to keep pace with the somewhat chubby giants long strides.

Ivan let loose another giggle of joy, covering his mouth with a hand to try and muffle the sound. Eduard and Raivis exchanged another look, both challenging the other to broach the subject of why the Russian was so happy. In the end, they decided like they always did when it came to tough decision, both men thrusting out a fist and shaking them three times.

Rock

Paper

Eduard let loose a silent curse of annoyance as Raivis smirked slightly at avoiding the confrontation. He was just glad Eduard was awful at rock paper scissors. Eduard glared at the smirking Latvian before squaring his shoulders, inhaling and letting the breath out slowly to calm his mounting nerves.

"M-mister Ivan." Ivan paused and turned his head to regard the Estonian quizzically, his grin still in place.

"Yes Eduard?" Ivan inquired. Eduard gulped and brushed his hands over his clothes nervously in an attempt to rid the garments of some imaginary dust particles instead of any of the very real misgivings he had.

"W-well, I was j-just wondering w-why you seem s-so upbeat now?" Eduard cringed slightly as he finished, as though expecting a blow any second which was a reasonable fear for a member of the trembling trio. Ivan however merely chuckled, his mood too good to warrant him lashing out at his minions, for now at least.

"It is actually rather simple Eduard. You see, Natalia has developed an obsession with something other than marrying me. And she can be very persistent." Ivan's smile fell slightly at that but he regained it soon after. "But as long as she peruses this 'Matthew Williams' she will leave me alone and, should heaven forbid she fail to find him for a few months then she will be unable to stalk me. Understand?" Eduard and Raivis nodded in understanding, no wonder I van was so cheery, and Ivan had a golden opportunity to rid himself of his sister for months potentially! Of course, Ivan would inform his sister eventually that he had recovered the case as he would worry for her safety but a vacation would be the massive Russians dream come true.

"Now," Ivan began once again, turning to face completely his two subordinates, "this is the part where you two come in. Eduard, I want you to dig up anything on this 'Matthew Williams' that you can. Hack into anything that may have information on him, call any contact, whatever it takes to find out more about him. Raivis, you will be in charge of trying to locate where Jones is." Ivan frowned darkly at the name, his brows knitting in annoyance at the American and causing the two Baltic gentlemen before him to shiver slightly. "I do not like the idea of him being free to run around unchecked. I, meanwhile, will be making a few calls to some associates of my own." Ivan gave another dark chuckle before turning from the two men with a swish of his massive coat. "Do not disappoint me gentlemen." Ivan tossed over his shoulder, giving off a kolkolkol of amusement as the two men shared a look before running off in different direction, Eduard for the nearest internet hub and Raivis for a taxi.

Ivan watched them run in satisfaction before continuing on his way, planning to go to his sister's home and catch an uninterrupted sleep, the first he had had in possibly years as he could never even trust when his sister told him she was going on vacation, the travel plan often merely a ruse to convince the Russian to let down his guard. Ivan decided to thank Matthew Williams when he caught him in some way. Perhaps he would not kill the man after amputating his arm.

It was the least he could do.

()()()

"Did you plant the bug on him Kiku?" Alfred demanded when his Japanese partner returned to him in the rented car (under a false name of course). Kiku nodded before passing the American a new ice pack, which Alfred immediately replaced the old one on his head with a sigh of contention. "Oh, that's the stuff."

"_Hai_ Alfred-san. I brushed against him in the train station and planted it on his jacket; we should have no trouble following them now." Kiku reassured the American. Alfred grinned happily at the news before turning the key in the ignition.

"Fanstastic, we'll track him down yet." Alfred cockily declared before pressing on the gas, the car lurching forward and merging with the traffic inconspicuously, hiding the occupant's true nature and the next level their chase had entered.

**Whew, that took a bit. The first problem I encountered was 'how to describe the sound Ukraine's breasts make. That took me forever but I'm glad I finished it. The other reason this took so long would be that yes, World of Warcraft Cataclysm is out so, you know.**

**Norge is Norway and Mathias is Denmark. It's weird how Norway doesn't have a definite human name so I just used Norge, I kind of like it. It seems to suit him.**

**That aside, Hetalia is not mine, I'm sorry if I mangled Sweden's accent and please read and Review to help keep me from dedicating my existence to WoW.**


	8. Can I Axe you Something?

**A vision of the past? Or present? I don't know anymore...**

"_Did you plant the bug on him Kiku?" Alfred demanded when his Japanese partner returned to him in the rented car (under a false name of course). Kiku nodded before passing the American a new ice pack, which Alfred immediately replaced the old one on his head with a sigh of contention. "Oh, that's the stuff."_

"_Hai Alfred-san. I brushed against him in the train station and planted it on his jacket; we should have no trouble following them now." Kiku reassured the American. Alfred grinned happily at the news before turning the key in the ignition._

"_Fantastic, we'll track him down yet." Alfred cockily declared before pressing on the gas, the car lurching forward and merging with the traffic inconspicuously, hiding the occupant's true nature and the next level their chase had entered._

Norge had an ever stoic expression. He had always had the somewhat unemotional face, which had confused his parents to no end and as he aged his expression and somewhat perpetually bored nature had remained with him. It had made birthday parties somewhat awkward for the Norwegian's guests but he had endured the somewhat weak ridicule the other children had directed at him with stoic grace. Besides, he had the trolls for company after all. Norge had rarely ever lost his temper and he liked to think his self control had grown quite impressive until he had actually lost sight of his breaking point altogether.

Sadly, Mathias was coming very close to the point and as such Norge was distinctly aware of how little more he could take. They had been on the road for approximately five hours and Mathias had begun complaining about being in the back seat after almost five minutes from leaving the station. Once he had run out of material in that regard he had just started talking for no apparent reason that Norge could discern ranging from question to stories to bragging. Norge could normally deal with that but it had begun to go downhill after Yong-soo had engaged the Dane almost immediately in conversation and they would not. Stop. Talking.

"So this bar had just some of the best freaking booze you had ever seen. I drank like three guys under the table before I finally called it quits or they threw me out, I'm a little hazy there. But damned if the liquor there didn't slide down smooth as you please." Mathias boasted, describing one of the many, many bars he had frequented and was bodily removed from. To put in perspective exactly how many stories there were of this, he had gone through a fifth of them in the last three and a half hours but most disturbing of all was the way that the Korean was keeping pace.

"Did you know the bar scene was invented in Korea?" Norge could not resist raising an eyebrow at the declaration. Did the Korean honestly believe that someone would fall for that? It was ludicrous.

"What, seriously? No way."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised you don't know that. Very few people do which is surprising."

"You're shitting me."

"No I'm not. You go to Korea and go into a bar and it's like wow, that is how it's done. Bars in Korea are always a step ahead in trends dazee."

"Wow. That's cool, how's the beer?" Norge lowered his eyebrow when he realized that Mathias was in fact buying the story. In reality, he wasn't terribly surprised but still come on, it was a compete crock. Yet, it was nevertheless really starting to annoy Norge how they had yet to cease their banter.

"Well, most beer did originate in Korea so..." Norge could imagine the Korean shrugging in his mind.

"Ok, now I know your lying." Mathias snorted in response to the Koreans statement.

"Hand to god. You know how all those toys and stuff have made in China on them because they were made there." Yong-soo explained without even a snicker to betray the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

"Yeaaaah... So?"

"Well we Koreans would do that too but we feel that if we stuck made in Korea on all the cans and bottles they would detract from the overall appeal." A quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed that the Asian had said that with a completely straight face. Incredible.

"Ok, now I know your lying, there's made in Germany and shit like that covering those things." Norge nodded in agreement before he caught himself in the motion.

"Well duh, that's because we ship them back to the places that they distribute from and they just stick their own labels on the things."

"Are you freaking serious? That is such a damn lie and you know it." Mathias protested in honest disbelief. Norge could almost feel a twinge of something deep, deep down within him past the emotionless wall at the fact that Mathias was not falling for the Koreans tall tales. Could it be a growing respect for the Dane? Well, either that or he was hungry.

"You know ___Häagen__-____Dazs ice cream?" Yong-soo asked with a confident tone. _

_"__Yeah..." Mathias responded uncertainly, not entirely sure how ice cream fit into the entire affair._

_"__Well, does the name actually mean anything?" Yong-soo continued coaxingly._

_"__No."_

_"__Exactly, it originated in Korea and we just made a name up that sounded Dutch then shipped it back and bam! They slap a fake Dutch label on it and sell it for like, twice as much as its worth if they didn't."_

_"__Holy crap, I never knew that." It was about this point that Norge realized that it was definitely hunger he was feeling earlier instead of any sort of respect for the Danish mans intellect. However, Norge now had a rather large amount of respect for the Koreans ability to lie so seamlessly. It was actually somewhat inspiring truth be told though Norge could not help but wonder as to how exactly Tino and Berwald were managing. Norge glanced in the rear view mirror as inconspicuously as he possibly could to discover the secret to the other Nordic mans infinite patience. Once he saw how they were capable of ignoring the conversation he supposed that it shouldn't be surprising, in fact he was surprised only in that he had failed to realize it sooner._

___After all, they had only brought a five seater and judging by the slight upturn of Berwald's lips on his normally terrifying face and the extremely awkward and nervous expression Tino now sported the decision to have Tino and Berwald double up with the Fin on the Swede's lap was receiving mixed reviews. Well, in Norge's defence he didn't know they were going to have a loud mouthed Asian coming with them so they could go bugger themselves and find their own damn ride and take Mathias with them preferably._

_"__Have you ever passed out drunk at a party and woken up in an alley in someone else's clothes with 'The King of Northern Europe' written on your forehead with permanent marker?" Mathias inquired curiously to Yong-soo, jolting Norge back to the conversation in the back when the absurdity of the question struck him. What kind of person would consider such an activity commonplace? Then again that particular incident having not been the first time such an event had occurred to the Dane though he had often turned up with considerably more colourful phrases written on him, and of course Norge had been forced to pick up the Danish man remarking that only Mathias could find such an experience with any sort of frequency. Mathias had taken it as a compliment but that was hardly Norge's fault._

_"__Sort of," wait, what, "but I woke up in a prison wearing a blue and white hanbok with a pair of white underpants with 'it's a white Christmas' written on them in a black marker. Odd because it wasn't December -."_

_"__Rest stop." Norge suddenly declared to the occupants of the car, deciding to finally buy himself some peace even if for only a few moments he could at least have a break to calm down so that he could survive Mathias until the Dane fell asleep._

___Norge glanced at the gas station at the side of the road which had caught his attention as his potential sanctuary. Though the gas station was somewhat secluded surrounded by miles of nothing on either side of the building and its pumps it nevertheless looked sufficiently well maintained. It was painted red and blue with several gas pumps just outside the building while the building itself had windows covering its front with a door of similar make._

_"__Fantastic. Hey Mattie wake up, pit stop and that means snacks dazee!" Yong-soo cheerfully declared as he leaned forward and smacked Matthew in the back of the head amicably. Had Matthew not been napping he would in all honesty likely of had a different reaction from giving a startled yelp, his hands flying to the back of his head automatically. Matthew rubbed the back of his head and turned to glare at the Asian in the back seat._

_"__Yong-soo what the hell." Matthew protested to the grinning man in the back seat._

_"__Oh good your awake. Listen, I need money for snacks." Yong-soo explained comfortably. Matthew narrowed his eyes a little more at the Korean and his request._

_"__What, why should I pay for your snacks? Use your own money."_

_"__But I want to use yours."_

_"__No." Matthew stated decisively. _

_"__Fine, be a selfish miser." Yong-soo huffed, crossing his arms in the back seat and pouting childishly. Matthew rolled his eyes at the other man before glancing out the window just in time to see them pull up to the pumps._

___Everyone exited the car with more cursing than was likely necessary but Mathias felt that perhaps it was prudent. Nevertheless they did so though Berwald looked somewhat reluctant but Tino appeared relieved which went unnoticed by all. Matthew closed the car door behind him before turning towards the gas station, catching a glimpse of Yong-soo's face as he did so. The expression on the Asians face was one Matthew had first seen was when it had been plastered on the Koreans face as he dragged Matthew past the front door of a bar. Later that evening after about a half dozen bottles of beer the Korean man had informed his roommate that he had sadly forgotten his wallet in his other pants and Matthew being the doormat, I mean good friend that he was had paid for their drinks. Matthew was somewhat proud when the next time he had gone to the establishment with the Korean he had explained, with fake sorrow lacing his words like venom, that he had accidentally grabbed Yong-soo's wallet but not to worry as the Asian had several twenties within the wallets leather embrace. Matthew realized that if he stepped foot into that gas station he was walking out several Euros lighter._

_"__I think I'll stay with the car. Y-you know, watch and make sure no one scratches it." Matthew quickly exclaimed. Norge raised an eyebrow in curiosity at the unusual request but honestly couldn't find anything specifically wrong with it._

_"__Well played." Yong-soo muttered approvingly but reluctantly though no one heard him before shoving his hands into his pockets and trotting towards the door of the station, his free meal eluding him for now._

_"__Mathias, you stay here with Matthew and make sure nothing happens." Norge informed the irritable Dane. Norge watched in mild amusement as both mentioned men's mouths fell open in shock. Mathias was the first to recover and vocalize his displeasure._

_"__Whaaaat! Why do I have to?" Mathias whined in irritation. Norge did not bother answering. Instead he just left to the inside of the gas station, ignoring the string of profanity that followed his departure, the Dane not too happy with the explanation or lack thereof which he received. Mathias slowly ceased his shouting once Norge was in the building and out of earshot. The Nordic man sighed with a frown and leaned against the car next to the Canadian, a somewhat awkward and tense silence enveloping them as they stood side by side._

_"__So, how's the front seat?" Mathias asked as casually as he could, finally breaking the silence between them. Matthew almost started at the unusual question but he snapped to with a slightly embarrassed flush._

_"__O-oh well, its fine..." Matthew finished awkwardly, not really sure what else he could say about the subject though he felt as though he should add something else to the sentence. But really, how do you praise the juvenile feeling of victory at having the front seat when you're in your twenties? Not that Matthew even had the luxury of that feeling considering that he had been more or less forced into the position by the Norwegian._

_"__It's not fair though." Mathias groused, crossing his arms in helpless annoyance at his predicament. "Why do you get to sit up front with Norge? What makes you so god damn special?" Matthew shrugged uneasily and held up the case attached to his arm._

_"__Uh, this. I-I guess." Mathias frowned as he examined the case and the cable which attached it to the Canadians wrist. Mathias observed this new piece of information for a moment before the blond slowly nodded to himself as though confirming some great secret which he promptly shared with the somewhat confused Canadian beside him._

_"__Huh, I think I get it now. You get to sit in the front seat because of that case so... if you don't have it I could sit with Norge." Mathias finished with a wide grin of accomplishment, the gears of his mind almost audible as they turned in thought._

_"__I'm not sure I like where this is going." Matthew warily replied to the Dane, but was waved off casually only adding to the Canadians growing concern._

_"__Don't move, I'll be right back." Matthew opened his mouth to protest but sadly the Dane had already moved to the back of the car, popping the trunk open and retrieving something from inside before holding it behind his back. That done, Mathias returned to Matthew before pointing towards the flat top of a large metal garbage can sitting next to the gas pumps. "Ok, put your hand there."_

_"__...Why?" Matthew hesitantly asked, clutching the cuffed wrist in his other hand protectively which considering recent circumstances was not entirely unreasonable. Mathias scoffed at the other mans reluctance._

_"__Don't be such a pansy, just do it." Matthew hesitantly complied with the other mans request and placed his arm over the flattened top of the trash can. "Perfect, now don't move." Matthew nervously nodded and watched as Mathias raised the object he had retrieved from the trunk over his head with a wide grin of confidence. Matthew was frozen in shock until he realized that no, he was not imagining it, Mathias was holding a battleaxe over his head. Matthew barely recovered from his shock in time to shout in alarm and yank his hand away from the garbage bin before Mathias brought the axe down, the head of the axe burying itself deeply in the metal garbage can._

_"__Hey, you moved." Mathias protested a he pulled the axe free from the garbage can after a bit of effort and leverage._

_"__What the hell man!" Matthew exclaimed, clutching his nearly severed hand compulsively to his chest while shooting Mathias a look of absolute incredulity._

_"__Christ, calm down. I was going to cut off the cuff not your hand you big baby." Mathias explained, hefting the axe over his shoulder once again while giving the Canadian a look of exasperation._

_"__With a battle axe!"_

_"__I have you know I practice with this thing every day and can cut things with surgical precision." Mathias boasted haughtily, puffing his chest out with pride at his self-proclaimed proficiency with the wickedly sharp weapon over his shoulder._

_"__It's an axe, there's no such thing as a surgically precise battleaxe!" Matthew argued, his voice a normal conversation level due to the stress of almost having his wrist chopped off, the fact that the Dane believed himself capable of cutting the cuff off a hand without actually touching the wrist using a massive battleaxe temporarily pushing the argument that the case would explode if the cuff or cable were separated taking a backseat in his mind._

_"__Well if you would hold still I could show you how wrong you are." Mathias barked, irked at having his skills denied by some kid who had stolen his seat. Matthew blanched slightly and took a step back nervously._

_"__N-no thanks, I'd r-rather not."_

_"__Hey, don't back out now! Get back here." Mathias stubbornly refuted, reached forward and grabbing the sleeve of the Canadians already torn flight jacket. Once again, Matthews's background in hockey saved him since he tended to get rather competitive when playing the winter sport which would often lead to fights. Specifically, the grappling technique better known as being jersied which involved pulling on the back of the opponent's hockey jersey until it reached the victims arms becoming stuck there and rendering the victim at the mercy of the one pulling on the shirt. As it was, Matthew had considerable expertise in the specific regard as to escaping from shirts with ease and so spun away, pulling his arm from the sleeve being grasped much to the Nordic mans surprise, particularly when Matthew sadly had the case attached to his wrist catch on the second sleeve causing the Canadian to stop short, nearly falling backwards before he could catch himself and leaned forward sadly overcompensating for the sudden pull._

___A loud ripping sounded across the gas station lot and Matthew stumbled forward, leaving the jacket behind him with a massive tear along the side of the garment, following a line from where the case had become caught on the sleeve and solved the problem by tearing the already weakened stitching all along the side to free itself. Mathias and Matthew stared at the destroyed jacket as it fluttered in the wind for a moment before settling on the ground soundlessly and tragically._

_"__Aw crap do you have any idea how hard it was to put that on thanks to this?" Matthew complained, indicating the case lazily swinging from his wrist. It had been really hard, the attempt having taken him and Yong-soo a half hour of struggling with the sleeve to fit the case through and even after they had stretched the fabric beyond what any piece of clothing should be they still had to take another step, going so far as to cut along the seam on the side to make it work before Yong-soo stitched it back up (while the Korean claimed sewing originated in Korea)._

_"__Well if you would hold still I could solve that." Matthias exclaimed as he advanced once again, raising his axe once again over his head while Matthew backpedalled desperately to get away from the axe wielding maniac as quickly as he could._

_"__Call shotgun!" Mathias and Matthew blinked in surprise as Matthew slapped his hands over his mouth at the outburst._

_"__What?" Mathias asked after a minute of silence, both staring at each other in surprise. Matthew blushed slightly which did wonders for the colour he had lost during the encounter with the axe before hastily replying._

_"__W-well, if you call shotgun you automatically get the front seat." Matthew hastily explained lest he give Mathias time to think and believe that his initial course was the correct one._

_"__What? How does that work." The Nordic inquired as he lowered his axe to his side, genuinely curious as to why the Canadian would believe that. Matthew brightened, realizing that as long as he kept the Dane distracted he may just survive this in one piece._

_"__Oh, well see it's a rule of the road. You know, like stopping at a stop sign, you have to do it." Matthew explained quickly but confidently. Matthew silently thanked Yong-soo for his almost compulsive lying, the lessons he had taken from hanging around the Korean and watching him convince people that various things of sometimes the ridiculous nature like palm trees originated in Korea serving him extremely well at the moment. Matthew had of course caught on to the scam almost immediately when Yong-soo had informed him that maple syrup originated in Korea and the resulting argument and beat down inspired the Asian to not try it as frequently with Matthew. It took a lot to make Matthew angry but when Yong-soo brought pancakes into the argument all hell had been unleashed, which Matthew had of course felt had been justified._

_"__Really?"_

___Matthew blinked in surprise, well aware that he was not nearly as successful a liar as Yong-soo but he was fortunate in that Matthias was somewhat gullible. "W-why yes, of course." Matthew reassured Mathias before approaching him and guiding the Dane back to the trunk of the car. "So why don't we put the axe away and wait for the others to come out of the store and you can call shotgun." Mathias nodded enthusiastically before depositing the axe in the trunk._

_"__Sure, this is gonna be great." Mathias smirked and rubbed his hands together gleefully. Matthew gave a nervous nod before closing the trunk as quickly as he could before returning to wait by the car, Mathias joining him soon after._

___It only took another few minutes before the other members of their group made their appearance, Yong-soo's head nearly invisible behind a pile of snacks and soft drinks he had stuffed between his arms while the others had a bottle of water or such._

___Mathias smirked and as soon as Norge was close enough before loudly clearing his throat, attracting the attention of the other Nordic men and the Asian. "I call shotgun!" He brashly declared, his eyes sweeping over the assembled men cockily. "No one can refuse, it's a rule." Mathias added, haughtily sweeping his index finger over everyone to indicate who he was referring to. Norge raised an eyebrow curiously and opened his mouth to refute the ridiculous statement before he noticed Matthew mouthing 'no' and waving his hands in a negating fashion._

___The Norwegian sighed slightly before shrugging. "Very well, get in the car." He ignored the loud 'hah' from Mathias and piled in the car, everyone else following suit though it took Yong-soo longer than it should have considering his pile of foodstuffs._

_"__What happened to your jacket?" Yong-soo inquired out loud. Matthew stiffened before giving his friend a nervous smile._

_"__Ah-, um, wardrobe malfunction." Norge rolled his eyes at the answer before starting the car, the engine giving a low growl as they pulled away._

___()()()_

___Ivan smiled his trademark smile, steepeling his fingers on the table before him while his violet eyes went to the two men seated across from him, smirking when they both ducked their heads slightly rather than meet his eyes. The shadowed room with a single desk lamp barely illuminating the trio seated within still managed to shine off various edged metal knives and other objects scattered around the room._

_"__Now the Eduard," he addressed the Estonian, who jumped slightly at the voice, his fingers nervously drumming on his closed laptop in front of him while is other hand stiffened on a folder beside the computer, "and Raivis." Ivan turned to the other man, who quaked but refused to look up and meet the Russians gaze. "You will tell me what you have found Da?" Both Baltic men nodded hesitantly to Ivan. "Good, Eduard you first." Eduard coughed nervously before opening his laptop and spinning it around to face Ivan revealing several opened files for the Russians perusal._

_"__Ah, y-yes. W-well Mister Braginsky I called all my contacts, hacked into every d-database that l-likely had information o-on him, googled him, I-interviewed Katyusha on his appearance and manners, checked all of my own files on other agents and agencies we know of and tried tracking down a record of his citizenship but..." Eduard looked down, trying to hide his face with his short hair which obviously did nothing for him aside from forcing him to push his glasses back up. Ivan slowly felt his smile drop, his eyes narrowing slightly._

_"__And, Eduard." Ivan prompted, his icy tone causing the Estonian to flinch before taking a shuddering breath and meeting Ivan's eyes hesitantly._

_"__I-I couldn't f-find a-anything." Eduard finished weakly, seeming to shrink into himself when Ivan's mouth deepened into a dark frown. Ivan slowly reached forward; Eduard shrinking away from the arm but the Russian merely snapped the laptop shut, his glower and unspoken threat hanging in the air between the three men._

_"__What do you mean... nothing? Eduard, I have always had confidence in your abilities, mainly because you know what will happen should you displease me. So I will ask you again and keep in mind that I mean anything, birthdays, photos, age... anything Eduard. Now, would you like to try again?" Ivan asked in mock sweetness, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms on the table._

_"__B-but that's j-jus it Mister Braginsky, there is nothing else. A-absolutely n-nothing at a-all. I s-searched everywhere b-but there is n-no Matthew w-Williams anywhere o-on any record that matches the d-description that Katyusha a-and Natalia gave m-me. I t-tried b-but no ph-photos o-or f-files or rumours exist. I-it's like h-he's b-been I-invisible his w-whole l-life. L-like he d-doesn't e-exist." Eduard desperately cried, shaking in fear throughout his quick stuttered explanation of the situation. "P-please don't hurt me." Eduard added in a small voice. Ivan said nothing, his eyes not even focusing on the Estonian as an awkward silence filled the room._

_"__Eduard, you have never actually failed to gather no information at all. So how do you think this 'Matthew Williams' eluded your wide net?" Ivan asked rhetorically. Eduard glanced nervously at Raivis but no help was forthcoming from the Latvian who refused to meet the Estonians pleading eyes._

_"__I-I d-don't know s-sir." Eduard answered, cringing slightly in expectation. Ivan nodded slowly before he slowly began to drum his fingers on the table. Eduard and Raivis exchanged a look of confusion. The habit was one that Ivan had taken up when he was nervous. They had rarely ever seen the compulsive activity and weren't even sure Ivan was aware he did so._

_"__Well then, what about the Korean who is with him, you have information on him I assume." Ivan asked Eduard coldly. Eduard brightened considerably and pulled the folder out, passing it to Ivan as fast as he could._

_"__Oh yes, I found tons of information on him from Katyusha's description. It's all in there." Eduard babbled as he shoved the folder at Ivan, his enthusiasm at possibly succeeding to distract Ivan from his failure with Matthew egging him on. Ivan smirked and reached for the folder when a bright light suddenly flipped on above them, bathing the room in a golden glow and causing the three men to freeze in shock and surprise._

_"__Hello little Ivan, I was just getting something to eat." Katyusha cheerfully declared as she wandered over to the fridge in the kitchen they were all in. Ivan and the Baltic men remained frozen at the kitchen table; Ivan's face the picture of exasperation. _

_"__Hello sister." Ivan responded in mild annoyance but he really couldn't complain. They were after all meeting in the Ukrainians home and kitchen after all and he hated to cause his sister undue duress but he would really prefer she did not intrude, it really undermined him in front of his subordinates to be threatening them one minute only to have his generously busted sister flit into the room all smiles and sunshine the next._

_"__Oh, I'm sorry I didn't see you two there," Katyusha commented, noticing the two members of the trembling trio in her kitchen, "did you three want anything to eat or drink?" She asked kindly, a warm and welcoming smile beaming from her face._

_"__We are fine sister." Ivan informed Katyusha, annoyance underlying his tone. Katyusha took note and nodded once in acceptance before pouring herself a glass of milk and grabbing a piece of Babka bread._

_"__If you need anything just ask." Katyusha reminded her brother before leaving, closing the kitchen door behind her, the sound of her impressive bust as it bounced fading as she returned to the living room where she had been watching television. There was a very awkward silence following the well endowed woman's exit until Ivan finally pulled the folder from Eduard's hand and opened it, the rustling of paper the only sound in the room._

_"__This is very good Eduard." Ivan told the Estonian after a minute in an attempt to move on, his violet eyes scanning the documents before him slowly, committing everything in the papers to memory lest he need the information at any point. Abruptly, Ivan paused in his examinations, his forehead furrowing slightly and his lips thinning into a straight line. "Eduard, you did an excellent job on gathering information on this... Im Yong-soo. Birthday, hobbies, favourite foods even but, I have a concern." Eduard stiffened, his lower lip trembling. What was wrong now?_

_"__Y-yes Mister B-Braginsky?" Eduard nervously asked, quaking somewhat in his chair._

_"__The documents all appear to be official, even the signatures on the Korean birth certificate and stamps but, these... They are all clearly doctored." Ivan coldly stated, tossing the photos and papers onto the table as his face took on a mask of rage. Eduard nervously looked at the pictures, unsure of what the Russian meant. They all looked proper, bodies in proportion, lighting proper, clothing moving in the same direction should there be a wind in the photo. It all looked real._

_"__I-I'm n-not so s-sure I u-understand." Ivan chuckled darkly at the honest answer._

_"__It is very simple Eduard. You see, while the documents look absolutely original down to the smallest detail it is clear that this... 'Im Yong-soo' created this himself to misdirect anyone reading them. How do I know? It is because the vain fool made himself appear attractive in every one of these photos!" Ivan barked, gesturing at the pictures in question. Eduard looked over the photos curiously. Now that Ivan mentioned it, in every picture the 'Korean' if that was in fact the man's nationality looked ridiculously sexy in every photo, even the grainy ones from security cameras._

_"__Are those... sparkles?" Eduard asked, looking at a photo showing Yong-soo sleeping, or at least he would have been except that it appeared now tot Eduard that he was posing and in fact was looking directly at the camera with several golden sparkles of light around the man's face as though drawn to the sexiness._

_"__Precisely Eduard. It appears that while one is invisible the other is too obvious. We are dealing with professionals, men who are skilled in the art of evasion, secrecy and subterfuge in a league all their own. We are very likely the first to realize that they even exist, such is their skill." Ivan muttered as he rose from his chair and began to pace behind it, Raivis and Eduard watching nervously. "They are good, very good." Ivan paused and turned to face his minions. "Be careful, we have no idea what these two are capable of."_

___()()()_

_"__Hey Mattie check it out, they had Axe body spray at the counter in these adorable tiny little cans dazee!" Yong-soo enthusiastically declared, pulling the small can from the hodgepodge of items on his lap and showing it to Matthew. The blond turned curiously to see what the Korean was talking about when Yong-soo's finger slipped onto the spray trigger._

_"__Ahhhhhhhh! Maple, my goddamn eyes." Matthew screeched, hands flying to his eyes and rubbing where the cinnamon scented spray had hit him. Yong-soo scoffed at the display._

_"__Oh come on it can't hurt that much, watch th- Gahhhhhhh!"_

___()()()_

"We must be wary, but we must find them first so Raivis, what have you learned?" Ivan asked, turning to the small blond seated beside Eduard. Raivis straightened, a nervous smile on his face while Eduard visibly deflated at the attention being drawn away from him.

"W-well you see I watched Alfred leave and followed them to the border with Poland but a-after that I-incident last y-year I-I'm not allowed in Poland. I-I d-dodged the border g-guards but b-by then I l-lost them." Raivis ended quietly, eyes turning to his lap as though there was something of specific interest there that demanded his immediate and undivided attention. Ivan sighed, and leaned on the back of his chair, shaking his head ruefully.

"Oh dear that is unfortunate. I had hoped that it would not come to this but it seems we must go straight to Berlin. If recent discoveries of the pair have led to anything we should reason that they will be able to elude that fool Jones so we shall head them off at the German capital itself." Ivan explained before turning away and wandering over to the door. Reaching beside the frame, he pulled forth a faucet pipe that had been leaning there before turning back to the two men who were eying the Russian in undisguised terror.

"But first, you both failed though I could hardly expect you to be able to track such professionals so I shall go easy on you both, this time." Ivan giggled and slowly approached the pair, swinging the pipe in lazy circles at his side while the two men cowered.

Katyusha couldn't believe how realistic the screams in the horror movie she was watching were. It was like the people being tortured were in the same house as her. Surround sound was awesome.

()()()

"Where are they, aren't they supposed to be here?" Alfred demanded, shading his eyes with his hand as he scanned the deserted parking lot by the gas station, a scowl twisting his features. Their car was parked several feet away, both of the men having decided to get out investigating when they saw that there was no car or people in the driveway.

"Yes Alfred-san. The tracking chip says they are somewhere around here." Kiku reassured the American. Alfred grunted in irritation before his eyes alighted in glee.

"Kiku, over there!" Alfred shouted, pointing at a dark bundle n the ground. Alfred dashed towards it, Kiku hastening to follow the American lest he be left behind. Kiku finally caught up with Alfred, who was holding up a jacket. Kiku examined the garment for a moment, and then it hit him.

"Alfred-san why did you throw that at me?" Kiku demanded as he pulled the shirt off his head, somewhat shocked at the Americans reaction. Alfred was staring at the torn jacket with wide eyes, an index finger pointing at the fabric fearfully.

"K-Kiku, do you realize w-what that means?" Alfred shakily demanded. Kiku quirked a delicate eyebrow before examining the jacket in his hands critically. It took Kiku only a few seconds before he realized where he had seen the jacket and what it had to do with their current predicament.

"This is very bad." Kiku murmured, his hands gripping the fabric of the flight jacket as though it were the sole piece of evidence he had that the owner of the jacket had existed.

"I know, how can we find him if he was abducted by aliens?"

"... Alfred-san I doubt that is what happened." Kiku slowly explained to his American compatriot. Alfred scratched his chin thoughtfully at that, his eyebrows knitting in concentration.

"Hmmm, maybe you're right. Shit, that means they know we were following them and ditched the jacket." Alfred scowled at that, realizing that perhaps he had underestimated the men they were following. Kiku nodded in agreement, that fact being the destination he had reached as well.

"What should we do Alfred-san?" Kiku asked the American. Though the blond could often be an idiot he was actually very capable when the time came for him to actually apply himself to a situation.

"We go straight to Berlin." Alfred decided soberly, his face unusually dour. "It seems that they're heading there so as long as we head in that direction we should be able to catch up to them eventually." Kiku nodded in acceptance of the Americans decision, it being the most logical solution.

"Hai Alfred-san. To Berlin then." Kiku agreed, dropping the jacket on the ground decisively.

"... So where is Berlin?"

**I never thought I would spend two days trying to figure out the physics of taking off a jacket but, there you are. You can't have a story with Denmark without the axe. I had been trying to work in Korea's originated in me thing but it was hard to make it realistic, the same with Korea's ability to appear sexy and attractive in all photos, which was a joke from the webcomic. I may be moving quickly by making them go to Berlin but it will make more sense soon, I hope.**

**Anyway, happy holidays! This is my Christmas gift to you all. How about a review from you?**


	9. Frying Pans and Knives

"_What should we do Alfred-san?" Kiku asked the American. Though the blond could often be an idiot he was actually very capable when the time came for him to actually apply himself to a situation._

"_We go straight to Berlin." Alfred decided soberly, his face unusually dour. "It seems that they're heading there so as long as we head in that direction we should be able to catch up to them eventually." Kiku nodded in acceptance of the Americans decision, it being the most logical solution._

"_Hai Alfred-san. To Berlin then." Kiku agreed, dropping the jacket on the ground decisively._

"_... So where is Berlin?"_

"Can we pull over and sleep somewhere? I mean honestly we haven't stopped since that gas station and I'm tired dazee!" Yong-soo whined to Matthew, leaning his head on the Canadians shoulder and giving the blond a puppy dog look. Matthew frowned at the Koreans face and attempted manipulation.

"What do you want me to do about it? Ask Berwald." Matthew added in a quieter tone, glancing to the Swedish man seated beside Yong-soo for reference. Yong-soos' eyes shot to the side as though he could see the man in question without turning his head before his eyes alighted on Matthew once more though somewhat wider.

"But he scares the piss out of me." Yong-soo whispered conspiratorially to Matthew. The Canadian grimaced slightly at the analogy but nodded in agreement. What could he say in argument to that? Berwald scared people, like labour inducing scared people. Which may have explained why he had Tino as his 'wife', speaking of whom was currently seated on the Swede's lap again and looking just as awkward as before.

"Ok granted, but again why do I have to?" Matthew repeated his earlier complaint.

"Because you're good with weird people. I would ask Mathias but he's asleep." Matthew rolled his eyes at that. Yes, Mathias was the normal one; he only carried around a freaking battle axe and tried to chop off peoples limbs! Granted, Matthew had encountered more people than usual with that particular hobby of late and Mathias didn't necessarily see himself cutting off Matthew's arm regardless of the fact that it would have (it was a freaking battleaxe!).

"So wake him up." Matthew gestured idly to the front seat where the strange beret the Danish man wore could be seen over the top of the seat, the cap moving as Mathias let out a particularly loud snore.

"I can't do that." Yong-soo gave Matthew a horrified look as though the blond before him somehow repelled him for even suggesting such an affront.

"What, why not? You did it to me." Matthew demanded.

"Well, he would hit me." Yong-soo defended with a weak grin. Matthew ground the heel of his palm into his forehead at the explanation. Maybe he should hit the Asian more often? If only he was more forceful but it sadly went against his nature, which was likely why he was going to cave into the Koreans demand anyway.

"Fine." Matthew spat as vindictively as he could which was not much considering his quiet voice. Matthew turned to the front seat to address the stoic driver. "Um, excuse me... Norge?" Matthew asked, stumbling over the name for a moment since the familiarity addressing the driver had been somewhat awkward for him as he had only known the Norwegian for a few hours. Norge inclined his head in the Canadians direction to indicate he was paying attention. "Could we maybe stop somewhere to sleep?"

"Why? We are only approximately four hours out of Berlin. It makes little sense to stop now." Norge argued, his monotone voice droning over the gentle hum of the engine.

"Uh, well. I mean, y-you've been driving for nearly twenty hours s-straight. Y-you should really get some sleep." Matthew hoped that by appealing to the Norwegians own state of exhaustion he may actually make some headway. Sadly, it was not the case.

"I am fine." Norge informed the Canadian, not looking back or even into the rear view mirror to observe the Canadians reaction to his words.

"O-oh. Well... M-maybe we shouldn't a-arrive there, y-you know, on schedule in case people a-are waiting for us. B-besides, if we r-rest before we g-get there we can s-start looking for Ludwig r-right off the b-bat." Norge silently sat in the front seat as he contemplated the reasoning. It was not necessarily invalid nor contrary to their objectives. Then of course, should they do so it would certainly throw people off if they were waiting for them.

"Very well." Norge declared after a moment. Matthew and Yong-soo exhaled in relief at that. "Yong-soo, wake up Mathias so he can help me look for a place to stop."

"Ha." Yong-soo pouted at the blonde beside him for laughing at his predicament.

"Shut up." Yong-soo grumbled to the Canadian before turning to face the front, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered what would be the best manner to wake up Mathias without pissing off the man. Matthew watched in amusement as Yong-soo brightened an idea clearly apparent to the Korean. Yong-soo slowly reached forward and smacked the back of Mathias' head, jolting the Dane from his sleep with a curse.

"Ow, what the fuck." Mathias swore, turning around to observe the two younger men in the back seat suspiciously.

"He did it." Yong-soo proclaimed with the most innocent expression he could, pointing at the extremely shocked Canadian seated next to him.

"What!" Matthew squawked indignantly.

"Mathias," Norge interjected before things could get out of hand, "We're looking for a place to spend the night, watch for a hotel or something like that." Mathias swivelled his head around to regard the Norwegian before nodding eagerly like a puppy eager to please.

"Sure Norge." Mathias cheerfully told the man beside him before turning to watch the buildings pass by in the growing twilight, his eyes probing for one that would suit their purposes.

"Hey," Mathias eventually called out to Norge after another ten minutes of driving, "How about that place, it's a B&B." Norge glanced out the window to the rather large house on the side of the road. Elegant windows and an immaculate lawn stared back at him, the care and maintenance put into the home obvious even through the darkening sky as there was no chipping or peeling of the blue paint coating the house. A large sign at the end of a paved driveway indicated the nature of the establishment as indeed a bed and breakfast.

"It will do." Norge declared as he pulled into the driveway of the home/hotel. Yong-soo eagerly pressed his face against the window to better observe the building, which had the unfortunate effect of forcing the Canadians into it as well much to the blonds' displeasure, his face making a slight squealing sound as it lurched to the side as the car halted.

"Yong-shoo, my fashe." Matthew managed to force out of his mouth as it was continued to be abused against the glass of the window. Matthew suspected that if he was forced to do so for much longer he may leave a permanent imprint.

"Hm? Oh, sorry Mattie, just give me a sec to get the door." Yong-soo apologized before his seeking hands searched for the doorknob (after a quick grope of the Canadians chest but that was standard).

"Wait, Yong-shoo do-." Matthew was abruptly cut off as the Asian found the handle of the door and jerked it open. Matthews face promptly said goodbye to the glass and hello to the pavement. The intimate but unwanted moment Matthew was experiencing as he kissed the pavement was abruptly interrupted as Yong-soo crashed on top of him with a sound of surprise.

"Ow, dammit Yong-soo that hurt." Matthew complained as he forced the Korean off him in order to stand, holding his nose and testing it to make sure it wasn't broken. Yong-soo grinned awkwardly as he stood up as well, rubbing his arm where it had hit the pavement following Matthew.

"Sorry." Matthew gave a quick nod to the Korean before taking his hands off his nose with a sigh of relief, there being apparently no permanent damage.

"Hurry up." Violet and brown eyes turned to regard Mathias who was waving at them from near the door. Jumping and reddening somewhat in embarrassment the pair scurried over to where the other Nordic men were standing. Norge rolled his eyes when the two college grads arrived before raising a knuckle and rapping on the door.

"Coming." A calm and collected voice informed them from within the home. The level sound of footsteps drifted to the six men standing outside the door as they waited for the owner patiently. The footsteps halted and the door eased open revealing a thin poised man wearing square framed glasses and a suit that screamed aristocracy. A single hair curl stuck up from his immaculately combed hair and a small mole was settled near his mouth which was curled down in somewhat haughty disdain as he observed the intruders on his doorstep.

"Can I help you?" The man inquired as he looked down his nose at the men before him, his tone implying that he really didn't want to.

"Do y'u hav' any rooms?" Berwald asked, staring at the man as he habitually did. The aristocrat cast his gaze from Norge to the speaker before jumping somewhat at the look he was being given from sky blue eyes sharper than a knife.

"I-I beg your pardon." He asked after a moment, loosening the frill at his collar nervously, suddenly finding the garment too tight.

"Roddy, who is it?" A cheerful and very female voice sounded from behind 'Roddy'. Mathias snickered at the endearment for the uptight man before him, who blushed in both embarrassment at being startled by the tall man before him and his wife's calling from within the house. Before he could turn and verbally chastise her however the brown haired woman wearing a green dress with white frills nudged him to the side to examine the men herself. While her green eyes examined the men they did the same to her, noting the green dress and attractive face and figure appreciatively for the most part. The exceptions were Berwald who was not interested in the female figure and Matthew, who had gripped Yong-soo's arm and was busy whispering that he should not grope her if they wanted to stay the night.

"Oh, hello there. What can we help you with?" She asked pleasantly when she finished examining them.

"We w're lookin' f'r som' rooms f'r us an' m' wife." Berwald declared, clapping a massive hand on Tino's shoulder and causing the man to jump slightly in surprise. The brunette started somewhat at that before looking at Tino intently, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration. The Finnish man shifted slightly underneath the woman's penetrating green eyes and the massive hand clamped on his shoulder.

"Wow." The green eyed woman commented to herself as she leaned back to stand thoughtfully. "Forgive me for saying but you look really masculine." She commented to Tino, who shifted again in discomfort and unsure of the proper way to answer the... compliment?

"I, well, a-am a man." He eventually told her. The brunette blinked in surprise before looking back to Berwald then returning her gaze to Tino. Matthew leaned back a little and raised a suspicious brow at the predatory look now on the woman's face. Her husband seemed to be sporting a look of exasperation on the other hand, his eyes rolling to the heavens in an expression of his helplessness at what would soon come.

"Oh well why didn't you say so, we have some rooms all set up for guests, come right in. My name's Elizavetza by the way and that's Roderich." Elizavetza quickly informed them, ushering the men into the home.

"M' names Berwald and th's Tino." Berwald informed the woman as he guided Tino into the home which was artfully decorated with flowers, mirrors and the occasional tiled floors.

"Lovely to meet you. Why don't you all sit down in the living room and I will come in to meet the rest of you in just a second." Elizavetza cheerfully proclaimed as the men slipped out of their shoes before ushering them into a large living room with several couches and the like circling a fireplace, photos dotting the walls and the mantle of the fireplace. Yong-soo immediately began to peruse the photos with Matthew hovering nearby in case Elizavetza decided to surprise them just before the Korean would surprise her and get them kicked out.

"Hey Mattie, look at this kid. He's so cute dazee!" Yong-soo exclaimed, pointing to a photo of a young boy with short brown hair playing in the grass with another kid with shocking white hair and red eyes. Playing though may be putting it mildly because if Matthew wasn't mistaken the brunette was making the albino eat dirt while pulling his hair.

"Do you think it's that Roderich guy?" Yong-soo asked, turning from the photo to ask Matthew face to face.

"Doubt it." Matthew told the Asian with a shrug.

"What are you looking at?" Matthew and Yong-soo turned to see Elizavetza return giving the pair a curious look.

"Oh, just this photo. Who's the brown haired boy?" Yong-soo held the picture up as a point of reference. The Hungarian woman cocked her head to the side before giving a light titter of amusement when she saw precisely which photo they were looking at.

"Oh that. That's me." She told them, highly amused by their confusion. Yong-soo and Matthew blinked a few times at that before glancing back to the photo in surprise.

"Wow. You are really beautiful." Yong-soo told the woman, who gave him a friendly smile back.

"Why thank you."

"You're welcome. I mean, I can't even tell that you used to be a guy." Time stopped. All of the Nordic men aside from Norge on the couch had their jaws slack and opened in horror at what had just been uttered by the Korean. Matthew had clamped his mouth down on his lower lip in abject horror at Yong-soo and as for the Asian himself? He was smiling at the Hungarian woman as though what he had just said was the most natural thing in the world while pointing at the short brown haired figure in the photo.

Elizavetza was staring at Yong-so in shock, green eyes wide at the exclamation and her body frozen in surprise.

Yong-so glanced at the expressions of horror on everyone's faces in confusion. "What?"

As if that broke the spell that had held him in place, Matthew rushed forward and slammed his hand over the Asians mouth to prevent him saying anything else as he had lost the privilege of speaking after that little 'compliment' paid to the woman before them. "Oh dear god I am so very sorry for him, he's an idiot and doesn't know what he's saying and I'm so damn sorry." Matthew quickly apologized to the woman before him. "You can hit him if it will make you feel better." Yong-so tried to protest at that but Matthews hand was as unrelenting as duck tape.

"O-oh I'm... fine. Don't worry, it's all right." Elizavetza reassured the men, somewhat uneasily as she wasn't exactly sure whether she had been insulted or complimented by the Korean. Mathias, Tino and Matthew breathed a sigh of relief while Berwald settled down once again into his seat.

"Ew, you licked my hand." Matthew complained as he pulled his palm back from Yong-solo's face. Yong-so stuck his tongue out in retort and possibly a threat before the pair settled on an unoccupied couch.

"How many rooms do you have and for how much." Norge bluntly demanded, not wanting to mince words and let Yong-so or possibly Mathias do something else that would result in them being ejected from the building.

"Well," Elizavetza began, seeming to have been successfully distracted from the comment earlier, "we have three rooms, two beds each except for one that is the honeymoon suite, one king sized bed." Matthew observed a predatory grin work its way across her face with mild trepidation at the words honeymoon suite. He also did not fail to note that she glanced at Berwald and Tino when she said it. "Each room is three hundred Euros a night but," Elizavetza continued with an evil grin and a slight blush on her cheeks, "the honeymoon suite is only one hundred if a couple stays in it." Norge was silent as he processed this new piece of information and the effect it would have on their budget.

"I see. In that case we are in luck because we have a couple amongst us." Norge informed the woman before them. The brunette let loose a loud squeal of happiness, clapping her hands together joyously. Matthew and Tino exchanged a look or concern at the expression of absolute glee from the woman.

()()()

"... Matthew."

"Mnm, whazza?"

"Are you asleep?"

"Not anymore." Matthew growled with a slight slur, rolling over to glare furiously at the Asian through bleary eyes having only recently successfully fallen asleep. The effect was augmented by the fact that the Canadian was not wearing his glasses and had his shirts pooled around his wrist since he couldn't take them off with the briefcase. He had washed them in the bathroom sink before having awkwardly gone to the bed opposite his Korean friend. It didn't help that Yong-soo had treated their sharing a room like one big joke which added to the Canadians annoyance at being woken up. It had reached the point that he was considering strangling the Korean with the cable attached to the case. "Whaddya want." Matthew groaned out.

"I can't sleep." Yong-soo whined from his bed pitifully.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" Matthew growled in irritation.

"Can you get me a glass of water?" Yong-soo pleaded. Matthew growled again and reached for his glasses in order to berate the Koran more effectively under the full power of his glower.

Big mistake. A soon as Matthew corrected his vision with his round glasses he was struck by Yong-soo's ability to look absolutely sexy, gorgeous and express emotions to the point of making critics weep in sympathy and give him a thunderous applause as well as an award from the academy. Matthew stared, stricken, into the deep brown pools that were Yong-soo's eyes as they sparkled with emotion before he groaned and cursed himself for his slip up before throwing the sheets from his form.

"Fine, I'll get you your damn water." Matthew grumbled, pointedly ignoring the pleased look on the Koreans face.

"Thanks Mattie dazee!" Yong-soo exclaimed at the Canadians back.

"Whatever." Matthew pulled his shirt on his one arm unto the other to ensure that he was properly covered as this was not his residence.

Matthew opened the door and exited the room, a light scowl still covering his features at his 'quest'. He glanced in both directions of the hall, scratching his head in an attempt to recall the direction that his Hungarian host had pointed out. It was at that point that he noticed said woman in the same green dress as before crouched in front of the door leading into where Berwald and Tino were sharing a master bed. Matthew paused and raised a curious eyebrow. Matthew considered leaving her to... whatever the hell she was doing but, considering everything that had been occurring around him recently he would be remised if he left the woman to whatever unknown designs she was attempting. Matthew sighed quietly before soundlessly padding up to the woman, his feet soundless as they impacted the floor. Matthew paused behind Elizavetza, who had yet to recognize his presence before clearing his throat.

"Miss Edelstein?" The brunette woman let loose a shriek of surprise and spun around with a shocked expression right before she kicked the Canadian in his shin.

"Ssssssst. Ow, Christ that hurts." Matthew hissed in agony as he hopped on one foot, holding the afflicted body part as though it could minimize his pain. Elizavetza blinked in surprise before she realized that it was in fact one of her house guests she had just kicked in the shin. Elizavetza was thankful that she did not have her frying pan on her or the Canadian would likely be suffering broken kneecaps.

"Oh. I'm sorry Matthew I thought you were... someone else." Elizavetza apologized profusely, her hands hovering over the Canadian as he tried to regain control of himself (being kicked in the shins hurts as anyone who has had the unfortunate experience can inform you).

"T-that's ok. I'm good (ow) so... what were you doing outside Berwald and Tinos' room?" The blond asked as he gingerly put his foot back down on the ground. Elizavetza promptly stiffened as a blush darted across her face at the question while a hand plucked at her dress nervously.

"Oh uhhhhh. I was... um, looking for something I dropped. Yes, yes, I dropped something while walking by and it rolled into their room and was just picking it up. Yep, only reason." Elizavetza smiled triumphantly at her explanation while she planted her hands firmly at her hips. Matthew stared at the brunette, his lips a thin line of disbelief. Though he would never call her lie out directly he was sure she was lying. Violet eyes slowly trailed down to one of the hands on the woman's hips and the object she had allegedly dropped.

"So, you dropped a camera." Matthew stated, observing the device critically. Elizavetza blushed darker and clutched the camera closely to her body, refusing to look in the Canadians eyes.

"... Maybe..." Matthew glanced into the room behind the woman, marvelling at how deeply the pair in the bed slept to have yet to be awakened by his and the Hungarians antics. He could see Tino sleeping peacefully with Berwald looming, would be the only way to describe it. Even lying down the Swede's presence seemed to tower over everybody, particularly as he had an arm slung over Tino.

"Ok, so why exactly were you carrying around a camera at three a.m.?" Elizavetza fidgeted slightly as her eyes darted to the camera and back.

"What will it take to make this conversation never have happened?" Matthew paused at the unexpected offer and tapped his chin in contemplation. After a moment an almost manic smile slowly spread over his face causing the Hungarian to hug her body subconsciously, regretting making the offer now. What could she say; she had panicked and had just wanted to end the encounter. But now, she would pay for her hasty words.

"There is something. Something I have been craving for a long time now but haven't been able to appropriate recently. Miss Edelstein," Matthew turned his violet eyes to the woman whose own eyes gazed at the Canadian in trepidation as she took a deep breath in fear, "do you have any real maple syrup?"

"W-what?" Of all the things Elizavetza had been expecting him to request that had not been it.

"I've been under a ton of stress lately and I used to eat maple syrup all the time to calm me down but lately I haven't been able to get any and I've been just been, you know, going nuts with people trying to cut my hands off and kicking and biting me and freaking me out and it's just been nuts and I need some soon or I'm going to snap!" Elizavetza rocked back on her heels at the rapid explanation shot her way and the fervent and desperate tone of the Canadians.

"U-uh yes. I-I think we do. A friend brought it back as a gift from a vacation." Matthew heaved a grateful sigh and gave the Hungarian a look of absolute gratitude.

"Thank you so much. You have no idea what I've had to go through."

"I think I have an idea. Do you want it with breakfast?" Elizavetza asked curiously. Matthew nodded eagerly at her suggestion with a wide smile on his features.

"Yes, that would be great. Oh, and could I have a glass of water. It's for Yong-soo to help him sleep." Matthew asked, recalling the entire purpose of his foray that evening.

"Sure just give me a second." With that the brunette took off down the hall leaving Matthew alone. Barely two minutes passed before Elizavetza returned glass of water in hand and camera absent Matthew couldn't help but notice with a roll of his eyes. As if it mattered now. She quickly handed the Canadian the water with a smile.

"Here you are." She pleasantly informed him.

"Thank you, good night." Matthew quickly replied before turning about and returning to his room with quick but silent strides. Matthew eased the door open and backed into his room, closing the door behind him before turning with a triumphant smile. He promptly lost that feeling of euphoria when he saw that Yong-soo had fallen asleep in his absence. Matthew also couldn't help but notice that the Korean had also stolen all of his blankets.

"God damn hoser." Matthew swore softly to himself before advancing toward the bed and the sleeping figure occupying it. It was there, with a vindictive smile, that the blonde upended the glass of water over the Koreans head and smirked in amusement at the very high pitched squeal that was emitted in response.

()()()

Seven pairs of eyes of varying shades watched in morbid fascination and just a hint of awe as the violet eyed member of the dinner table devoured another plate of pancakes, the pastry like breakfast food swimming in maple syrup but not for long as it was soon removed from the plate and brought to the Canadians devouring gullet. This was the third plate of pancakes in as many minutes as both Roderich and Tino had forfeited theirs after watching the Canadian eat his first plate and eye the as of yet touched pancakes and the sole bottle of maple syrup before them hungrily (Roderich had still been a touch reluctant until Elizavetza had given him a light nudge and nervous but pleading smile). Of course said hungry look had more in common with say a killer whale eying a baby seal and damn anything that tried to intervene than either men were comfortable with. Yong-soo was unperturbed by the expression since he had known the Canadian for a long time and the look he had now was miles from the sheer bone chilling and bloodthirsty visage Matthew adopted during hockey. Mathias had tried to compete with Matthew for the sake of showing off but after choking he gave up and ate normally reasoning that Matthew simply didn't chew his food. Norge honestly didn't even notice the Canadians face but even if he did he wouldn't have cared. Elizavetza for her part was half glad that someone clearly enjoyed her cooking and somewhat terrified of what would happen when they ran out of pancakes, the frying pan she had used to make them already washed and she was absently drying it in her hands as she stood in the corner of the room.

Berwald glanced at Tino and the queasy look on his face before returning his eyes to his plate of pancakes and pushing them over to the Canadian. Matthew didn't give the Swede a second look before he began to devour the fourth stack with abandon. Tino gave a somewhat queasy look at the rapidly disappearing food. Roderich muttered something sounding like 'distasteful' into his napkin, though his eyes remained riveted to the scene as though he was somehow compelled by the scene.

"Done!" Matthew cheerfully declared, grinning widely at his accomplishment while Tino covered his mouth with a gagging sound and a flush of embarrassment at being unable to control himself better. Matthew looked around the table brightly at the various people seated there. "Is there any more?" Mathias growled a little at that and pulled his plate closer, wrapping an arm around it protectively. Matthew gave a dejected sigh when it became apparent that he would not be able to enjoy the sweet taste of maple syrup anymore and picked up the four plates before him.

"I guess I'll just take these back to the kitchen then."

"Good. Sh'uld giv' us time t' recov'r." Berwald informed Matthew in his typical accented and stern voice. Matthew gave him a blank look, still having trouble completely deciphering what the Swede said sometimes before smiling awkwardly.

"Uh yeah, sure. Bye then." Matthew quickly trotted off towards the kitchen, missing the collective sigh of relief from several of the room's occupants as he did so. Matthew hurried to the kitchen in a euphoric mood at his recent meal. Maple syrup had that effect on him and the pancakes were the first real food he'd had in several days. Matthew smiled contentedly as he entered the kitchen, depositing the dishes carefully into the sink when the sound of the doorbell rang through the home.

"I have it." Roderich's voice drifted from the dining room into the kitchen followed by leisurely footfalls though the impatient and repeated ring from the door somewhat overshadowed it. Matthew curiously turned in the direction of the footsteps as they ceased only to be replaced with the light creak of a door being opened. "Can I help you?"

"Perhaps." Matthew froze, his mouth falling open and his skin paling considerably. That voice, that chilly tone reminiscent of the great glaciers. Matthew would recognize it anywhere even though the last time he had heard it and seen the owner she had been muffled by the skin of his arm. It was the crazy girl with the knife from the train.

Maple.

"I am looking for someone specific. He has blonde hair, purple eyes and has a briefcase manacled to his wrist." Natalia stated coldly as she examined the aristocrat before her. Roderich tilted his head and turned his head back into the house in thought. Though many of the individuals that stayed the previous night were blonde only one had violet eyes and the briefcase was a dead giveaway.

"Hmm, I think..." The Austrian paused when he noticed the man he had been thinking of standing in a nearby doorway desperately signalling for Roderich to stop as he mouthed the word 'no' over and over again. "... that if you could give me a moment I can check." Roderich quickly shut the door before the woman could protest further and made his way over to the Canadian.

"Would you be so good to enlighten me as to who that is and what she wants with you?" Roderich asked as he looked sternly at the nervous Canadian with a raised brow. Matthew looked down at his feet as he attempted to formulate an excuse, his mind going a mile a minute.

"S-she's my-, um, e-ex-girlfriend!" Matthew stuttered out. Roderich raised a manicured eyebrow at that in disbelief.

"Your ex?" Matthew nodded his assent vigorously.

"Y-yeah! She, ah, has been f-following me and s-stalking m-me. S-she can be p-pretty violent s-so I would r-really like to a-avoid her." Matthew finished somewhat weakly. There was a pause as Roderich digested this new information carefully, weighing his options against each other.

"I see. I will tell her you left earlier, please retrieve your companions and get ready to leave. I would prefer to avoid a scene."

"Y-yes, I'll go get them. I'll just be a minute." Roderich nodded in understanding and watched dispassionately as Matthew sprinted back to the dining room.

Matthew wasted no time returning to the dining room. As he skidded into the room where he had quite thoroughly enjoyed his breakfast he was greeted by six heads swivelling in his direction in surprise and shock, Elizavetza even pausing in drying her frying pan.

"Hey Mattie, what too-."

"We should g-go now." Matthew immediately declared, cutting of Yong-soo's inquiry as pulled his various companions up and off their seats much too many of their surprise though Berwald and Norge did not show it.

"Wow, what's the hurry?" Mathias demanded as he resisted the arm trying to pull him from his chair.

"I know he's here I saw the car!" A screech sounded from where Matthew had come from causing several members of the dining room to wince and a few glasses to crack.

"Miss please you can't just-."

"Out of my way."

"Leaving, quickly. Please!" Matthew hissed at Mathias and tried to pull him up. Mathias grunted and reluctantly rose from his chair. Sadly, it was too late.

"Found you!" Natalia crowed as she slammed a foot into the dining room's wooden floor decisively. "Remember me?" She demanded viciously once she spotted the Canadian with a feral smirk twisting her lips and her favourite knife clutched in her hand.

"... Maybe." Matthew squeaked. This was sadly not the right answer.

"What! Even after all those scratches, bite marks and the pounding I gave you? How could you forget tying me up with that ribbon and your own damn belt?" Natalia demanded as her face turned steadily redder with fury.

"Holy crap you tapped that?" Mathias demanded incredulously staring at Matthew in something akin to awe and surprise. "Nice!"

"Kinky dazee!"

"What!"

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave at once." Roderich firmly stated as he planted a hand on the Belarusians shoulder. Natalia hissed at the unwanted contact and spun about, slamming her knee into the Austrians crotch. Roderich's hands flew to the assaulted region, biting his lower lip to muffle the very high pitched whimper that still managed to leak past his sealed lips a tad.

"Roderich! You bitch." Elizavetza raged, advancing threateningly on the woman who had just rung her husband's bells quite thoroughly. Natalia turned to the green dressed woman with a scowl before stabbing her knife forward in an attempt to move the obstructing brunette. Elizavetza brought the frying pan up immediately, blocking the blade easily with a loud clang and scrape of metal.

"Out of my way!" Natalia barked at the Hungarian as she feinted another cut before attempting to dodge around Elizavetza to get at Matthew.

"Oh no you don't!" Elizavetza's hand shot out, grabbing the Belarusians long hair as she tried to run past. Natalia screeched in pain before twisting around and grabbing a lock of the Hungarians brown locks.

"Let go!"

"Fuck you!"

"Oh my god girl fight dazee!" Yong-soo squealed in delight. That proved enough to snap Matthew out of his shock at the sudden turn of events he had witnessed.

"Yong-soo come on!" Matthew shouted, grabbing the Asians shoulders and attempting to drag him towards the door, the action sadly being fought every step of the way by the Korean who refused to look away from the scene as the two women fell on the ground with a growl of fury and the odd screech of pain (and occasional clang as one of the two gained a hold of the frying pan and used it not for its manufactured purpose). Berwald grunted in annoyance and slung the Korean over his shoulder.

"Nooooo!" Yong-soo protested as he was carried off like a sack of potatoes.

"Save the syrup." Matthew suddenly shouted, grabbing the bottle on the table before fleeing after Berwald and Tino with Mathias following and Norge bringing up the rear with suitcases in hand. Norge quickly reached the door and slammed it behind him, cutting off a particularly loud screech from the dining room they had vacated.

()()()

"Here Roddy, this should help." Elizavetza told her husband softly as she handed the man an ice pack. Roderich gave her a weak smile and pressed the bag of ice over his crotch with a slight wince followed by a relieved sigh. The Belarusian had really hit him hard and once she came to the realization that Matthew had fled she had disentangled herself from Elizavetza to give chase, albeit slowly thanks to a slight limp courtesy of the Hungarian woman. Elizavetza had prioritized getting Roderich to their bedroom to lie down in favour of pursuit and so here they were.

"Thank you dear." Roderich warmly told his companion, giving a weak smile in her direction eliciting a light blush from Elizavetza. The tender moment was sadly shattered as the ringing of the home's phone sang from the living room and startling the pair of lovebirds.

"Oh, I'll get it. Be right back Roddy." Elizavetza quickly rose and hustled to the living room. The Hungarian barely managed to snatch the phone up by the third ring, pressing the talk button quickly lest the caller be cut off. "Hello, the Edelstein's." Elizavetza warmly greeted.

"_Ve, it's me Feliciano!_" Elizavetza gasped in surprise and her lips widened in a bright smile.

"Feliciano! It's so good to hear from you. How are you?" Elizavetza gushed into the receiver.

"_I've been great! Guess what, Ludwig is visiting me in Italy!_"

"Oh my gosh really Feli? That's great!"

"_I know! I finally talked him into visiting even though it took awhile. He wouldn't even come after I promised to make him pasta but I wore him down. Romano is being a bit of a dick but it's all good._"

"Oh that's too bad. So how long is Ludwig staying over there?"

"_He's taking an extended vacation. Apparently his boss was getting worried that he would get burned out so made him take a two month holiday from his job in Berlin since he knew Ludwig would just try and keep working if he stayed. Isn't that great?"_

"It sure is!"

**This chapter was born out of two desires. 1. Make more sexually harassing jokes and 2. To get Korea to scream 'girl fight'. Do these reasons make sense? Not necessarily. However they did make a chapter so whatever.**

**This took a long time in coming. I had it all planned out, including another scene but in the end decided to just stick it in the next chapter but the real reason it took so long was because of the night time scene. At first it was going to be Korea and Canada in the bed, then I decided not to, then I had to think of a way that Canada could be hurt when he interrupted Hungary (it was a tossup between hit with a frying pan or something lower body) and finally I wanted to put in Hungary's love of homosexuality in so... yeah.**

**Argh, it's -25 Celsius here and my fingers are freezing off and I hate having to get out of bed for my six a.m. shift. This has no bearing on the story, I'm just irate.**

**Anyway, read and review please. I need the motivation to move out of bed.**


	10. Proper English Puffin

**You there boy, what day is it today?**

**Today sir? Why, it's the day you get off your lazy arse and updated your story.**

**...**

"_I've been great! Guess what, Ludwig is visiting me in Italy!"_

"_Oh my gosh really Feli? That's great!"_

"_I know! I finally talked him into visiting even though it took awhile. He wouldn't even come after I promised to make him pasta but I wore him down. Romano is being a bit of a dick but it's all good."_

"_Oh that's too bad. So how long is Ludwig staying over there?" _

"_He's taking an extended vacation. Apparently his boss was getting worried that he would get burned out so made him take a two month holiday from his job in Berlin since he knew Ludwig would just try and keep working if he stayed. Isn't that great?"_

"_It sure is!"_

Emil Steilsson yawned into his hand as he lounged in a chair located in his living room before his television before he reached down and idly scratched the head of a small puffin seated next to his chair, the Icelander's violet eyes watching but not seeing the news program flashing before him. Emil or 'Ice' as he was often affectionately referred to by his siblings and close friends due to his heritage did not actually care about what was on the screen before him. Rather, he was anxiously awaiting his older brother's arrival that had called the previous evening to inform him that he along with some of their other Nordic associates would be stopping by. It was a common tactic the men would use, their little organization having safe houses in nearly every major city in Europe and, while some would pick up a target one would have gone ahead several weeks in advance to prep the safe house for as long as they would require its use. Emil was distracted from his blank staring when he felt his puffin move against his hand in an attempt to garner his attention. Emil tilted his head down to observe the small bird curiously.

"What is it Mr. Puffin?" Emil inquired. Mr. Puffin bobbed his head in the direction of the front door causing Emil to look towards it in curiosity. "The door?" Evidently that was correct as a knocking sound cane from said wooden portal. Emil jumped to his feet, brushing his white dress shirt to dispose of the imaginary dust that could have landed on him. Quick strides brought him to the door where he snatched a shotgun sticking out of the umbrella holder and peered into the peephole.

"Who is it?" He asked mildly to the door.

"Norge, let us in." Was the robotic reply to his call. Emil smiled when he caught sight of the frock of light blond hair so different from his own silvery almost white hair. Eagerly, Emil put the shotgun away and pulled the door open to admit his older half brother (though he refused to refer to him as his senior) and the assortment of individuals that followed after.

"Yo, Ice!"

"Mathias." Emil acknowledged stiffly as he watched the grinning blond pass him by.

"H'llo Emil."

"B-Berwald." Emil nodded in greeting.

"Hey Emil."

"Tino."

"_An nyoung_ Emil dazee!"

"Hello- wait, who the hell are you?" Emil demanded, his hand moving back towards the rifle as an overly smiling Asian went through the door.

"Put it back." Norge called from the living room, knowing precisely what the Icelander was thinking without actually having to see him. Emil scowled at the grinning Asian but released the gun all the same.

"Nice to meet you." Yong-soo merrily declared before leaving the foyer with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. Emil turned and noticed a man standing outside with a shy smile. Looking down and noticing the briefcase Emil frowned and gave the man a glare.

"I don't want any." He bit out before slamming the door. "Damn salesman." Emil muttered scornfully before following the others into the living room with a sigh, scratching the back of his head. He came into the living room to see all of his guests sprawled around the room on the couches, his own chair mercifully cleared of individuals. Emil cast his gaze on the only stranger to him in the room curiously before his eyes widened in surprise.

"Hey, why don't you have the case?" He demanded. Yong-soo laughed in amusement at that.

"Ha, I don't have it." Emil raised his brows before turning his violet eyes to Norge.

"You mean you guys already got it off?" Norge shook his head.

"We don't have it on us." Norge informed Emil in a monotone. Emil blinked in surprise before taking the entire room in with a sweep of his head.

"Then who does have it?"

"Matthew." Tino responded with a slight smile, the blonde having endeared himself to the Fin during the past several days.

"Who's Matthew?" Emil asked after a moment of thought, unable to recollect the name. Yong-soo looked around the room in confusion.

"Hey, where is Mattie?" Everyone looked around in confusion and more than a little concern.

A knocking sound came from the doorway prompting all the individuals in the room to fix the now feeling extremely awkward Icelander with expectant eyes.

"I'll uh, just be a sec." Emil told them before turning around and running to answer the door.

()()()

"Oh. My. God. I can't believe it. I mean, sure East Berlin was Commie but how can they still not know how to make a decent burger. A travesty I say, travesty!"

"Alfred-san... It was named Hamburger Banhof. It was an art museum. Which we were kicked out of because of your yelling."

"What really?" Alfred demanded, turning to the Japanese man and pausing on the street corner.

"_Hai_." Kiku responded immediately, his right eyebrow twitching.

"Huh. You know, I was wondering why there were all those paintings. I figured it was just for ambience." Alfred shrugged showing exactly how much being yelled at by the museum curator and security chief independently, then by both, had affected him. Kiku felt a rush of embarrassment at the memory of the two of them being forced bodily from the museum, much to Kiku's embarrassment and Alfred's protests of 'I want a big mac!'

"Oh well, life throws you curveballs sometimes." Alfred told Kiku, waving the incident away with his characteristic nonchalance. Kiku sighed but followed as Alfred crossed the street when the light changed bringing them to the next block. Almost as soon as their feet planted on the sidewalk Alfred's cell rang, the words 'America, fuck ya' shrilly shrieking from the Americans pocket. Alfred's hand darted to his pocket and flipped it open to reveal a text message.

"Huh."

"What is it Alfred-san?" Kiku asked curiously, standing on his tip toes in an attempt to glimpse the screen.

"I just got an anonymous text telling me to go into this cafe." Alfred informed Kiku as he turned his head to regard the building beside him with the words _Kaffeehaus_ printed on the window, Kiku following suit with a raised eyebrow. The Japanese man scoffed and shook his head ruefully.

"What fool would think we would fall for such an obvious trap Alfred-san. Alfred-san?" Kiku looked to where the American had been standing moments earlier only to see him opening the front door of the cafe. "_Kuso_." Kiku swore before hurrying in after the American, just squeezing past the closing door. Kiku glanced at Alfred just as his cell phone rang again, Alfred immediately reading the text before moving towards a booth near the corner, a man with a newspaper obscuring his face already sitting there. Alfred and Kiku slip into the seat opposite and wait for the man to lower his newspaper.

But of course Alfred was bad at waiting.

"So are you a stalker or something?" The newspaper crinkled as the hands holding it tightened before throwing to the side revealing furious green eyes and a pair of eyebrows whose dimensions bordered on the ridiculous. It was as though a pair of fuzzy caterpillars had crept onto his face and attached themselves to his skin.

"Shut it you bloody git!"

"Arthur, what a coincidence seeing you here. How ya doin'?" Alfred asked with a shit eating grin, the British man just glared at the American opposite him angrily. "Oh right, you haven't met Kiku. He's my new partner, say hi Kiku." Kiku bowed his head to the Englishman whose gaze lost a good deal of its fire when he saw the Japanese man.

"_Konichiwa_, I am Kiku. It is a pleasure to meet you." Kiku informed Arthur in a respectful tone. Arthur nodded and opened his mouth to respond but Alfred seemed to find the second of waiting too long.

"That's Iggy or Artie, whichever you prefer."

"Those are not my names you blasted arse!" Arthur spat, his cheeks turning pink in rage at the introduction.

"Yeah, whatever. He's part of MI6 by the way." Alfred continued, nonplussed by the interruption. Arthur glowered even more at the boisterous American while Kiku turned back to Arthur with surprise.

"What are you doing here then if I may ask?" Kiku inquired suspiciously. Arthur harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest to glare at Alfred pointedly.

"The same reason you both are here I'd wager." Arthur told them both coldly with a sniff of disdain. Kiku and Alfred exchanged a look of surprise at that before returning to observe Arthur cautiously.

"I'm not sure what you mean Iggy. We're on vacation." Alfred lied easily with a confident smile. Kiku inwardly smirked confidently, Alfred was a very accomplished liar when he wanted to be. It came with the territory after all. But to the Japanese mans surprise the Brit scoffed and shook his head.

"Bullspit, you're after the lad with the briefcase, and don't call me Iggy. Bloody twit." Alfred and Kiku exchanged a look of shock at the British agent's words.

"H-how...?" Arthur smirked at the American confusion and leaned forward onto the table confidently.

"Please, give me some credit. I trained you after all you shouldn't be so surprised that I could see through your little act." Kiku glanced at Alfred's pouting visage in mild surprise. He was honestly surprised. Sure the American did mention a few times that he had been trained by a foreign agent during an agency cooperation event but the American had never specified where the other agent had come from.

"Interesting Arthur-san but if I may ask, how did you find out?" Kiku asked. Had he and Alfred slipped up? Had they been betrayed by one of their contacts? Arthur sighed and leaned back into the booth with a roll of his emerald eyes.

"Feliks wrote about it in his online blog." Arthur told them with a disappointed shake of his head. Alfred scowled and Kiku frowned slightly at that.

"Aw crap. Why the hell would Feliks write it in his freaking blog?" Alfred asked rhetorically, the mental image of the Pole wearing his signature pink shirt laughing at him making its way to the forefront of his mind. Arthur snorted from across them at that.

"He hardly made it easy to find. The information was buried under five pages about how 'ponies were adorable', a twelve page essay on why Warsaw should be the capital of Europe and some pictures of someone named Toris wearing some dresses. It was hardly a simple achievement." Alfred sighed and planted his face on the table in disappointment, a dark cloud forming over his head. Arthur rolled his eyes at the dramatics.

"So what did you wish of us Arthur-san?" Kiku finally asked slowly as he searched the face of the British agent for any indication of playing them false. Arthur lost his amused expression immediately at that, his face suddenly dour and business like.

"I want you both out of this. MI6 is taking over here and we will deliver the case back to the states as soon as we locate it." Alfred looked up suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the Brit.

"That is such a load. You guys just want it to make sure you haven't been infiltrated at all, then fork it over with a heap of conditions on it." Arthur didn't deny it, he just gave Alfred a level stare as he steepeled his fingers before him.

"Regardless of my reason, we are telling you to back off. You're in over your head here." Arthur told the American slowly as though speaking to a child.

"Pfft, whatever old man. You're just scared that you won't be able to keep up with the young people like me and Kiku here."

"You idiot, he's older than me. And stop calling me old man you twit!" Alfred blinks in surprise and looks at Kiku with wide eyes.

"What, seriously?" Arthur snorted and shook his head in disappointment at the American.

"Honestly, what kind of agent doesn't even know his partner's age?"

"Hey," Alfred protested indignantly, "when we first met you thought I was a ten year old." Arthur blushed in embarrassment and looked away from Alfred nervously.

"W-well it's hardly my fault you looked like a prepubescent boy." Arthur sputtered indignantly with a scowl. Now it was Alfred's turn to blush in embarrassment at the Englishman's comment.

"It's not my fault I was short for my age. I was waiting for a growth spurt." Alfred quickly explained to Kiku, who looked somewhat taken aback by the fervent explanation.

"Whatever. Just remember to stay out of my way Alfred. I don't want to see you get hurt even if you are a pigheaded git." Arthur explained as he folded the newspaper underneath an arm and rose from the booth. "If you know what's good for you lad you'll get out while you can. This isn't a game." Arthur explained, giving the pair a piteous glance before leaving the cafe. Alfred and Kiku remained seated, contemplating his words carefully. At length, Alfred sighed and laid his head on his crossed arms on the table, pouting.

"I hate how he treats me like I'm a kid. I beat him more than once but he still does this. It's so stupid." Alfred muttered to himself. Kiku nodded but didn't say anything, preferring to stay out of his partners personal problems as was only polite.

"Here's your order." A waitress suddenly told the pair, depositing several plates of food before them as well as drinks. Alfred and Kiku stared at the three plates of mashed potatoes and sausages with matching cups filled with tea before them for a moment.

"Son of a bitch! He stuck us with the god damn bill!"

()()()

Gilbert groaned and pulled himself up and off the couch. The Albino rubbed his eyes in exhaustion and looked around the trashed apartment with a bored sense of detachment brought about by the fact that nothing in the room was even his to begin with (aside from the red paint on the walls but that was moot).

"This blows. Why the hell did _bruder_ have to go play with his god damn boy toy and leave the apartment locked like that? Dick." Gilbert muttered as his red eyed swam to the broken window he had used to enter the apartment. In his defence, Ludwig had taken the key he always hid underneath the doormat which was totally not awesome. Sure Gilbert may not live in the apartment anymore after being kicked out but still, it was just rude to hide the key.

With a sigh Gilbert heaved himself off the couch and wandered into the kitchen to see if there was any microwaveable popcorn left since it was fast to prepare, filling and fast to make for the awesome Prussian on the go. Digging through various cupboards whose contents had been mostly emptied earlier yielded nothing and with a growl of annoyance and hunger Gilbert knocked several containers on the ground, one of them falling open and several bills falling from within.

"Score!" Gilbert enthusiastically declared as he scooped up the money and stuffed it into his pocket. "I'm gonna get so wasted tonight. It's going to be awesome." Gilbert crowed as he vaulted out of the window which was fortunately on the first floor of the building. "Beeeeeeer!" He bellowed as he ran down the street.

**Late update was late. I know, short chapter but I didn't really want to draw it out against my will. Hamburger Banhof is an actual place, it used to be a train station before it was an art museum. Iceland has no official name so I used one that Himaruya apparently mentioned as a possible choice. The Puffins name is actually Mister Puffin and he makes the last of the Nordics to be included, yay.**


	11. Apartments and Bars

**And now, an important message from the previous chapter.**

"_This blows. Why the hell did bruder have to go play with his god damn boy toy and leave the apartment locked like that? Dick." Gilbert muttered as his red eyed swam to the broken window he had used to enter the apartment. In his defence, Ludwig had taken the key he always hid underneath the doormat which was totally not awesome. Sure Gilbert may not live in the apartment anymore after being kicked out but still, it was just rude to hide the key._

_With a sigh Gilbert heaved himself off the couch and wandered into the kitchen to see if there was any microwaveable popcorn left since it was fast to prepare, filling and fast to make for the awesome Prussian on the go. Digging through various cupboards whose contents had been mostly emptied earlier yielded nothing and with a growl of annoyance and hunger Gilbert knocked several containers on the ground, one of them falling open and several bills falling from within._

"_Score!" Gilbert enthusiastically declared as he scooped up the money and stuffed it into his pocket. "I'm gonna get so wasted tonight. It's going to be awesome." Gilbert crowed as he vaulted out of the window which was fortunately on the first floor of the building. "Beeeeeeer!" He bellowed as he ran down the street. _

All was silent in Ludwig's apartment. The residence revelled in the quiet, the lack of noise reminiscent of the time in which a battlefield remained empty following the combat leaving only the devastation before the survivors returned to rebuild.

This silence was shattered as the doorknob jiggled for a moment. There was a pause followed by a scratching sound and a click. The door knob turned at last with the lock picked and the door eased open slowly until it was fully open revealing a bespectacled green uniformed man with blonde hair and a tall beige coat wearing figure with a childish smile.

"Th-this is the place Mister I-Ivan." Eduard nervously told his boss as he cautiously led the way into the apartment with Ivan following closely after. However, as soon as the Russian saw the room he lost his smile and glowered at the destroyed apartment darkly.

"Eduard, it would appear we are too late to interview the late Mister Beilschmidt." Ivan coldly stated as he looked around the destroyed room.

"Good lord." Eduard gasped as he noticed the dried red splashes on the walls. "What happened here?" Eduard asked in awestruck horror at the obvious signs of struggle in the apartment and the blood on the walls. Ivan tsked at the Estonian lightly as he took a step into the apartment and flipped a book on the floor to the side with the toe of his boot.

"Really now Eduard I thought it obvious." Ivan admonished the blonde lightly.

"I-it is?" Eduard asked as he squatted before a smashed coffee table and brushed some of the wooden splinters off of the carpet. Ivan chuckled and Eduard paused to cringe but no blows came.

"Of course Eduard. It would appear that this 'Matthew' and 'Yong-soo' are truly ruthless and cut throat. They must have located Ludwig the first day they were here and came to the apartment. They confronted him for the key but when Ludwig did not give it to them they killed him so that he could not tell anyone about them or hand over the key. After which they disposed of the body to ensure that there would be no evidence left from his corpse." Ivan explained as he examined the red stains on the walls.

"B-but how could they know? It took us three days after arriving here to actually find this place. H-how did they accomplish that s-so quickly?" Eduard stuttered noting that the blood stains on the walls were dry.

"It would be child's play for agents of their calibre to accomplish a feat like this Eduard. Remember that they have hidden their identities all their lives. Search the apartment, perhaps they made an error and left a clue somewhere." Ivan ordered Eduard, putting action to words as he flipped over a destroyed kitchen table.

"Yes sir." Eduard responded as he too began to search for a clue. For several hours the only sound was the two men as they searched the apartment top to bottom in an attempt to locate a clue until Eduard's excited voice cut through their silence.

"Mister Ivan! I found a daily calendar." Eduard enthusiastically declared as he pulled out the small stack of single sheets glued together with a date printed on it. Ivan grinned victoriously and approached Eduard, snatching the calendar from his grasp.

"Good work Eduard. Now then, let us see..." Ivan trailed off as he brushed some destroyed plaster off the calendar. After examining it for a moment the Russian let loose a loud curse and flung the calendar away, startling Eduard tremendously.

"S-sir? What is it?" The Estonian asked fearfully. Ivan just let loose another string of curses in Russian as he kicked the wall making yet another hole in the plaster. After several more destructive efforts, some of which involved Ivan's favourite faucet pipe smashing into the walls the Russian managed to calm down.

"Eduard." Ivan began, turning to the cowering Estonian. Eduard gulped nervously and nodded.

"Y-yes mister Ivan?" Eduard stuttered fearfully.

"It would appear that they did this on the day that we arrived. It took them less than a day to find an unlisted name and address in the capital of Germany, confront him and kill him along with destroying any evidence that could incriminate them." Ivan hissed furiously. Eduard quaked but said nothing, realizing that anything he said would likely only exacerbate the problem. Ivan was silent as he stared at the newly damaged wall.

Abruptly Ivan's shoulders began to shake. Eduard nervously backed further into a corner of the room as he waited for his employer to explode in a devastating rage. Ivan's shoulders shook even more violently but then Eduard heard a sound. He failed to notice it before as it had begun quietly and the sound of his own heartbeat obscured it but, now that he was listening he heard a sound that made his jaw drop open in surprise.

Ivan was laughing.

True, it was his typical strange laugh that sounded like he was saying kolkolkol but it was laughing nevertheless.

"U-um, M-Mister Ivan?" Eduard ventured before Ivan broke out in full throated cackling, throwing his head back and a gloved hand over his eyes as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing was reality.

"It's glorious Eduard." Ivan cackled joyously.

"S-sir?" Eduard ventured, curious but still apprehensive. Ivan gradually let his laughter die down but still shook his head in amusement at his own private joke.

"Don't you see Eduard? Someone is better at this than me. Someone has dared to be better at this game of cat and mouse I have played since before the Berlin wall fell. I have not been challenged in so long I feel my heart thumping in my chest in excitement at the possibility that I am for once at a disadvantage from my opponent. I am playing chess in the dark for the first time in decades Eduard and I could not be happier." Ivan explained with such pure childlike glee that Eduard was taken aback.

"Uh, g-good for y-you s-sir." Eduard tentatively replied to the massive Russian. Ivan giggled again and grabbed Eduard in a bone crushing hug (almost literally) and spun around effortlessly.

"Da,it is indeed good. Now come Eduard," Ivan declared as he released the Estonian man only to grab his arm and fairly skip to the front door in joy, "we have lost the lead but we will retake it soon." Ivan cheerfully told his minion.

"Oh goody." Eduard muttered as he was dragged out the door behind Ivan.

()()()

"This is the place Kiku." Alfred whispered to his partner as they strode down the hall of the apartment building, numbered doors lining the walls on both sides beside them.

"Hai Alfred-san." Kiku agreed as they walked. The pair of agents were silent as they approached the apartment whose number was written on a small slip of paper in Alfred's hand. They stopped before the numbered room, Alfred raising his knuckles and rapping them on the door.

Much to their surprise however the door opened slightly with just that gentle prompting. The two agents exchanged a concerned look before they both pulled free a handgun from within their coats. The two men flanked the door with their guns at the ready until Alfred gave Kiku a quick nod and kicked the door open, both men bringing their weapons to bear and scanning the room. When there was no noise or motion in reply to their entrance and only the sight of the destroyed room they dropped their guns to their sides but kept them drawn.

"Wow." Alfred said in an awestruck tone at the scene of mayhem he was greeted by. "What the hell happened here?" He demanded rhetorically.

"Nothing good it would seem Alfred-san." Kiku uttered in interest as he began to move about the room, carefully stepping over the mess covering the floor lest he disturb the chaos. Kiku carefully padded over to the wall and examined the red stain carefully. The Japanese man was about to reach out to touch the burgundy stain when Alfred called out.

"Hey Kiku check this out." Kiku pulled away from the dry stain to return to Alfred who was examining several differently shaped holes in the wall.

"What is it Alfred-san?" Kiku asked as he halted beside the American and examined the destroyed wall.

"Look at this." Alfred muttered with a dark scowl, gesturing at a specific hole. Kiku squinted and leaned in to examine the mark, noting the L shape of it and how several small pieces of plaster were precariously hanging in the inside of the hole.

"It looks... recent. As in today recent." Kiku ventured as he glanced between it and several other holes in the wall. Alfred nodded in agreement of the Asians assessment.

"Yeah. And I know one guy who runs around hitting things with something shaped like that." Alfred told Kiku darkly, glaring at the hole as though it were the culprit. "Ivan." Alfred hissed before looking back to the various stains of red on the walls with Kiku following suite.

"Hai Alfred-san. But those stains needed some time to set like that. I'm not sure if Ivan could have killed Ludwig-san in time for his blood to dry like that and leave these marks like this as well." Kiku told Alfred with a sceptical tone. Alfred scowled a little deeper but reluctantly nodded.

"I guess but still, Ivan was here and that commie bastard never means anything good." Kiku nodded at that, conceding the point to the American.

"True Alfred-san. However things are becoming complicated. Do you think that Arthur-san knew something?" Kiku asked his companion. Alfred stroked his chin in thought before slowly nodding in confirmation.

"Hmm, he could. But I doubt we could find him. He may be an asshole but anywhere that fashion or food isn't an issue he can blend in like a polar bear in a snowstorm. Oh man, this one time in Italy he got captured by these guys but broke out. They recaptured him like four times before I, as the hero, bailed him out-."

"Alfred-san." Kiku interrupted lest the American become even more sidetracked. "Does this mean that Ivan does not have the case?" Kiku asked the American. Alfred blinked owlishly at Kiku for a second as he tried to register what he had just been told before brightening, snapping his fingers in realization.

"Hey, you're right! He probably doesn't so we still have a chance. Awesome Kiku, way to go." Alfred praised his Japanese compatriot with a friendly slap on the man's back, nearly bowling the poor Asian over.

"Thank you Alfred-san." Kiku responded with humility, wincing a little as pain shot up his back from the congratulatory gesture.

"We better get going if we don't want to be left behind." Alfred quickly uttered, pulling Kiku towards the door. Kiku stumbled slightly at the sudden motion but eventually caught his balance as he was pulled along with the other agent out the door.

()()()

Mathias was woken from his nap on the chair by the sound of Berwald's phone ringing. Of course it was hardly a surprise that this occurred since the giant Swede had taken on the role of guarding the apartment with Mathias while the rest of their team searched for information on Ludwig. Their stratagem was that they searched in shifts of three while two remained in the apartment to ensure that they would have sufficient numbers to watch Yong-soo and Matthew if either wanted to leave the apartment for any reason.

Also to pull them apart should they start fighting which had occurred a few times when Matthew woke up to Yong-soo taking pictures of him, an oddly frequent occurrence considering they had been present in the apartment for only three days. When asked Yong-soo claimed that it was just for fun but Matthew rebuked that by shouting that he was sick of Yong-soo selling indecent pictures of him over the internet.

But that was beside the point. At the moment Mathias had been in the middle of his seven p.m. nap when Berwald's cell went off, filling the room with the sound of Abba singing 'Take a Chance on Me'. Suffice to say the Canadian, Korean and Dane cast awkward looks at Berwald as the stoic man answered his phone.

"'ello?" The other three members of the room watched as Berwald listened intently to the voice on the other end of the phone before nodding a few times.

"A' right. G'd bye." Berwald intoned into the phone before flicking it shut and turning to Mathias. Mathias sat up a little straighter at the piercing gaze of the Swede and raised an eyebrow curiously.

"What?" He demanded.

"Norge found a b'r wh're s'mone n'med Ludwig go's t'." Mathias lit up at the mention of a bar and jumped to his feet enthusiastically with a broad grin.

"Sweet! Where is it? Also, I need booze money stat." Mathias quickly exclaimed as he ran into a corner of the room where he had tossed his pants before his nap and began to enthusiastically pull them on. Berwald watched the display with his usual stoic countenance before reaching into his pocket and pulling forth several twenty euro bills. Mathias brightened at the sight and finally managed to pull his pants on before walking to Berwald and grabbing the money.

"Kick ass. So where is it?" Mathias demanded. Berwald grunted and wrote down a series of numbers and the name of a street on some paper before handing it to the Dane. Mathias grinned and grabbed the paper before quickly striding to the front door. "See you guys later." He called before slipping on his shoes and walking out the door.

Mathias quickly made his way to the address on the paper, grinning ear to ear in anticipation. After all, how often does someone have the opportunity to get plastered at a bar for a job? The answer was not often unless you are involved in the legal profession. Putting such thoughts aside Mathias soon came upon the bar written on the note. Without a moment of hesitation the Dane entered the bar with a confident swagger.

The bar was a typical one. Booths against the walls and various tables scattered around with the serving area placed against the back of the wall, various drinks lining several shelves along the rear of the service bar. The time was nearing the evening so there was a small crowd in the bar scattered about but, even though Mathias may not seem like it often times he was a professional and knew that if Ludwig was indeed a regular as their information was then the most likely location to collect information would be the service bar as both the bartender and regulars tended to gather there.

The fact that it was also the fastest location to receive beer from was just coincidence.

Mathias strode up to the bar, grabbing a stool between a sandy haired blonde man slumped over the bar nursing a drink and a white haired man in much the same state. The Dane slid into his seat and thumped the bar authoritively.

"Yo barkeep! Beer me!" Mathias declared to the man behind the counter. The bartender gave an uncaring look at the Dane before quickly filling up a glass and handing it to him.

"Dankzij." Mathias brought the mug to his lips and downed nearly half the glass. "Whew, that's not bad brew." Mathias praised with a wide grin of acceptance. The white haired man turned to him at those words with a cocky grin and crimson eyes.

"It's not just fine. This is German brewed, the most awesome beer in the world." The albino held up his mug and pointed to the liquid within. "The texture, the colour, the flavour, it's all around awesomeness can't be compared." Mathias frowned at the boasting and turned to face the other man.

"I said it was good but it sure as hell can't but Danish brew." Mathias rebuked adamantly with an accusatory finger.

"Yer both stupid twatsh." The sandy haired blonde next to Mathias spat prompting the Dane and Prussian to turn and regard him curiously. "Theresh no comparishon to British beer ya idjitsh." Mathias raised an eyebrow at the clearly plastered man and was about to argue but the albino beside beat him to it.

"Pfft, whatever. That's just because the English have no taste." The albino laughed for a moment before taking a swig. He then paused and gazed in horror at hi nearly empty mug. "Aw, it's no fun to drink alone. I have to buy all my drinks" The albino muttered as he laid his head back down on the bar. "I wish Ludwig was here, he would spring for me." Mathias started at the name the Prussian mentioned and slowly turned to look at the man beside him with a splitting grin, noting that the British man had also started at the words. Quickly, the Dane downed his drink with a satisfied sigh and slammed the drink on the bar, noticing from the corner of his eye the Englishman leave his stool and wander off.

"Bartender, another round for me and my friend here." Mathias barked gesturing at the albino next to him. Both the bartender and Mathias's new 'friend' looked at him in surprise but the albino soon grinned as well and the bartender just shrugged in indifference and filled two more mugs.

"Awesome, thanks. I was getting worried that I would have to stop drinking. Name's Gilbert." Gilbert told Mathias, shoving his hand out in greeting. Mathias grinned back and shook the other man's hand warmly.

"I'm... Matthew." Mathias told Gilbert warmly after a second of thought on whether he should use an alias. "So, this Ludwig guy would usually buy you drinks?" Mathias asked curiously. Gilbert snorted sarcastically.

"You could say that. West always had a stick up his ass but he could hold his beer pretty well. Ah but he left town a little while ago so I've been on my own." Gilbert muttered darkly before taking a sip of his beer. Mathias's eyes widened in surprise and he quickly took a drink to hide it.

"West?" Mathias asked curiously. Gilbert glanced at him in surprise before laughing a little, a curious sound that resembled him saying kesekesekese.

"Yeah sorry. It's my nickname for him. He's west and I'm east." Gilbert explained. Mathias took another drink, digesting that information.

"So you guys are close?" Mathias asked with a raised eyebrow. Gilbert scoffed and stared regretfully into his mug.

"If we were he would have left me more money for beer. My awesomeness has been running low on cash and I can barely pay for my drinks anymore." Gilbert grumbled with a pout.

"That blows buddy." Mathias agreed sagely as he nodded. "Hey, wanna give me a hand picking up some chicks?" Mathias asked animatedly, figuring that now that he had most of what he needed he may as well use the guy. As an apparent regular the other people in the bar may be more willing to open up with Gilbert alongside him. Also, two people would make it easier to spend the money Berwald had given him and make damn sure the Swede didn't get back a dime.

However Gilbert waved him off. "Nah I don't feel like it anymore." He told Mathias as he placed his chin on the bar and stared at the drinks opposite him. Mathias shrugged in response.

"Suit yourself. See ya" Mathias told Gilbert as he left the bar and began to move around the room dropping the odd question and beer at various tables and idling patrons.

"Yeah, bye Matthew." Gilbert told the Dane with a wave. Gilbert slouched at the table in a bad mood, not even noticing the Englishman return to his stool with a bleary look on his face.

"So what are you so pissy about? You need money too?" Gilbert asked snidely; glad to have an opportunity to take out his bad mood on someone. The green eyed blonde glared at Gilbert and waved him off.

"Shut yer trap. I don't need money, I have moniesh." The British man spat. "I could pay millionsh but I can't find that cashe." Gilbert raised his eyebrows in surprise but snickered all the same.

"Millions? Psh, whatever limey. How could you pay out millions?" Gilbert demanded haughtily, thoroughly enjoying teasing the British and clearly delusional man.

"Shut up. You don't know me! I could call up my government and pay if it meant we could get the cashe but I don't have it." Gilbert raised an eyebrow at that, interested. He knew his brother was involved in some business that was not always legal and often involved government authorities having included Gilbert occasionally. The Prussians job had been primarily for added muscle and strategy but Ludwig had disliked including Gilbert in his own work. It was not that Gilbert was bad at it, quite the contrary he was 'awesome'. Rather, Gilbert had little patience and so tended to jump the gun. However the man before him with eyebrows that nearly bordered on the ridiculous did not seem like the type to have a hand in such matters as espionage.

"So you're a spy? Yeah right." Gilbert told the man with a scoff. Suddenly he felt a pair of hands grab his collar and yank him towards the smaller man. Furious green met annoyed red in a stare off.

"You think you know everything huh Gilbert Beilshmidt?" The blonde demanded with the slur of the intoxicated. "Yer alwaysh jumpin inta shtuff and getting yer brother ta bail you out like when ya got kidnapped by Braginshky." The Brit chuckled at the shocked expression on Gilberts face and turned smugly away.

"H-hold on! How the fuck do you know that?" Gilbert demanded as he grabbed the blondes shoulder. The Englishman snickered and wagged a finger in front of Gilberts face.

"Knowledge ish power." The Englishman told Gilbert before taking a large swig of his drink. Gilbert rocked back on his seat, not believing that the man had such knowledge of him and his brother. Suddenly, the Englishman turned back to Gilbert, swaying a little before thrusting a finger in his face again.

"Tell ya what ya kraut. I'm lookin fer a cashe that some guy has manacled to his wrist. You sheem like a shmart fellow. I'll make ya a deal. You get me that cashe and I'll pay you enough ta keep ya from goin shober for yearsh." Gilbert brightened visibly and smirked at the offer.

"Kesekese, sure ya limey bastard. The awesomeness will find it so long as you can pay. So, what do you know about the guy who has it." Gilbert demanded the possibility of having his fiscal problems solved along with something to occupy him during the coming days of sobriety a keen motivator. The Englishman snorted and scowled.

"That'sh jusht it. Nobody knowsh. All they know ish that theresh two of them, one of them'sh Asian and they have shome freaky bodyguardsh. Nobody knowsh anything else. Not me, not Alfred, not Ivan-."

"Whoa!" Gilbert abruptly interrupted with a furious scowl. "Ivan, as in Ivan Braginsky? The crazy Russian fucker who carries around a lead pipe and likes to lock people in basements?" Gilbert demanded furiously, the fire of fury alight in his eyes. Green eyes blinked in surprise and nodded.

"Yeah, he'sh here lookin' for it." Gilbert smirked darkly and cackled in glee.

"Buddy, you got a deal." Gilbert told the British man with a firm handshake and another cackle of mirth.

**Huh. I updated this faster than I expected. Special thanks to I Like Angst for the photo idea. Yay for me and yay for you if you choose to drop a review.**


	12. Mamma Mia

**Here's where we left off.**

"_Kesekese, sure ya limey bastard. The awesomeness will find it so long as you can pay. So, what do you know about the guy who has it." Gilbert demanded the possibility of having his fiscal problems solved along with something to occupy him during the coming days of sobriety a keen motivator. The Englishman snorted and scowled._

"_That'sh jusht it. Nobody knowsh. All they know ish that theresh two of them, one of them'sh Asian and they have shome freaky bodyguardsh. Nobody knowsh anything else. Not me, not Alfred, not Ivan-."_

"_Whoa!" Gilbert abruptly interrupted with a furious scowl. "Ivan, as in Ivan Braginsky? The crazy Russian fucker who carries around a lead pipe and likes to lock people in basements?" Gilbert demanded furiously, the fire of fury alight in his eyes. Green eyes blinked in surprise and nodded._

"_Yeah, he'sh here lookin' for it." Gilbert smirked darkly and cackled in glee._

"_Buddy, you got a deal." Gilbert told the British man with a firm handshake and another cackle of mirth._

The sound of a blaring alarm cut through the silence of the hotel room, the screeching sound soon joined by a short lived groan of displeasure from a large bulge beneath the hotel room sheets. The groan was followed up shortly thereafter by a hand reaching out blindly from beneath the blankets until it had successfully slammed itself onto the bedside alarm, silencing it for the time being.

"Oh bloody hell, my aching head." Arthur muttered as he pushed his head out from beneath the safety of the blankets. Blinking blearily in the mild darkness of his hotel room he managed to roll onto his back to stare at the ceiling with dull green eyes.

"Alright Arthur old chap let's go over the previous night to see if we did anything we regretted shall we?" Arthur asked himself lightly. "Bully. Hmm, nobody in the bed with me, good sign for certain. Let's see now..." Arthur trailed off for a moment as he furrowed his brow in concentration, the act all the more obvious thanks to his monstrous eyebrows. "I was at the bar for the third bloody night in a row after I found out Ludwig hung about it whenever he was in town. I had a drink to seem like I belonged there. Then another, and another. After that it got a tad hazy but I remember someone going on about how Ludwig was out of the country. Then I went and gave MI6 a ring about what I found out." Arthur frowned slightly when he recalled the scathing tone the director had spoken to him on the phone. It didn't seem fair to be honest after all had Arthur not been drunk then he probably wouldn't have even heard that information in the first place. Arthur shook the memory off and resumed his narration. "After the call I went back into the bar, that fellow who had been sitting beside me had wandered off, then I started talking to Gilbert-." Arthur abruptly stopped when he recalled exactly what had transpired between him and Gilbert, his eyes widening in horror at the recollection of hiring the volatile German to try and track down the briefcase for him.

"Oh bloody hell!" Arthur swore roundly as he struggled out of bed and ran towards his pants. Upon reaching the article of clothing he rummaged through the pockets and after a few seconds of frantic digging he managed to locate his cell phone and pull the device out. Filled with terror, Arthur frantically went through his contacts only to find that he did not have the Prussians phone number recorded.

"Great blooming bollocks!" Arthur cursed, slamming a fist onto a helpless nearby table in his fury. Following several more choice curses Arthur attempted to force himself to calm down by slowly breathed in and out repeatedly. After a minute of the calming exercise Arthur let out a particularly slow breath of air.

"Okay old chap, calm down. You can fix this before anyone else finds out; there are several options in fact that are available to you. Number one, you just find the briefcase before Gilbert does, then you don't have to pay him or anything. Number two, you shoulder the embarrassment of being unable to do this job yourself and call headquarters for the money. Number three you use your own money or number four you could just kill the kraut." Arthur was really leaning towards option four but three could work as well if he couldn't hide it from Ludwig long enough to get his hands on the key as well.

"Bugger it." Arthur swore before quickly rising and marching to the bathroom to prepare for the day. After a quick shower and getting dressed the Englishman rapidly departed the room, sparing only enough time to grab his keys and phone before crossing the threshold of the room and shutting the door behind him.

()()()

Gilbert groaned in irritation as he slapped a hand over his forehead in stress receiving a few curious looks from passerbies on the street. Sure he had claimed the previous night to the British fellow that he would be able to find the twerp with the briefcase the man had wanted but putting that claim to practice was an entirely different matter altogether. To start, the only thing he knew about the guy he was looking for was that nobody knew anything about the guy or his partner. As such Gilbert was wandering around Berlin in a black t-shirt and jeans with a red bandana around his neck as he attempted to come up with an idea.

But his walk wasn't helping; instead it was infuriating Gilbert and seriously bothering him. Of course, when Gilbert became bothered that meant that other people had to be bothered as a matter of course. In the spirit of that he was currently wandering around the streets of Berlin just desperate for someone to give him a reason to fly off the handle.

Said reason soon manifested in the form of a somewhat shorter woman jostling Gilbert as they walked past each other. "Hey, watch where you're going." Gilbert spat as his red eyes landed on the actually rather attractive platinum haired woman wearing a blue and white dress with a bow of the latter colour in her hair. The woman paused and turned about on her heel for her dark blue eyes to glare challengingly into Gilbert's red ones.

Much like Gilbert, Natalia had been having a hard time of late. After having escaped the home of the crazed frying pan wielding woman she had made her way rapidly to Berlin. The trail unfortunately had gone cold by the time she arrived and to top it off Ivan was no longer staying at his usual house in the German capital. So here she was, all alone in Berlin unable to find either the blonde who had eluded her or Ivan, either of whom she would have wanted to take to a dark room and tie them down in order to use anything from a car battery and jumper cables to her knives on. It was one of the few times she missed having Toris around as he was rather pliable for her to take some of her 'urges' out on.

As such when a cocky albino bumped into her and suddenly started spewing profanities at her she was more than happy to play with him instead.

"My apologies, I did not notice you due to your utter insignificance." Natalia hissed to Gilbert conveying her sarcasm as poignantly as she could. The Prussian narrowed his eyes at the mouthy Belarusian and towered over her, which actually had little to no effect on her in terms of intimidation.

"What! How dare you belittle the awesome presence before you." Gilbert spat back furiously, finding the petite woman making him angrier rather than calming by permitting him an outlet for his frustration.

"There's hardly anything 'awesome' about you." Natalia retorted hotly, crossing her arms superiorly.

"What would you know midget?" Gilbert demanded, smirking as the woman's eyes narrowed hatefully at him.

"I know an idiot when I see one who starts random fights on the street." Natalia uttered disdainfully. Gilbert scoffed in amusement.

"And you dress like your eight years old. Look at that dress." Gilbert told her scathingly as he raised his finger to poke said garment. However Natalia caught the hand in an iron grip and slowly began to tighten it. Gilbert grimaced in pain as his fingers were slowly crushed and stomped on her foot until her expression matched his. The pair remained standing there in the middle of the street, Natalia slowly applying more pressure to Gilberts hand and the albino putting more weight on her foot. The game of chicken lasted for an interminable amount of time seeing as neither were willing to give and the increasing pain made it harder to concentrate on something as frivolous as time.

However as Natalia glanced around in an attempt at locating something to distract herself from the increasing pressure on her foot she spotted something far more interesting than an argument with an egotistical albino (though the experience did have a certain uniqueness to it). Immediately she released the Prussians hand and slipped her foot out from beneath Gilberts. Said albino grinned and was about to begin mocking her when she strode past him without bothering to look back.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? Off to cry to your daddy?" Gilbert snidely demanded at Natalia's retreating form. But contrary to his expected reaction from her she ignored him completely and kept moving through the crowd like a blood hound. Scowling darkly Gilbert advanced on the attractive woman and grabbed her shoulder.

"Hey, I was still talking to you." Gilbert hissed only to have Natalia whirl around and slam a fist into his stomach. The albino soon found himself doubled over, wheezing painfully while the Belarusian turned and stalked off once again without comment.

"The hell." Gilbert muttered as his eyes tracked the irate woman. Gilbert couldn't help but feel curious about what had taken her attention so fixedly when an incredibly awesome presence was before her. He also couldn't help but feel pain but that was another matter and soon passed in favour of discovering where her attention had gone.

As Gilbert followed her gaze his own red eyes widened in surprise before narrowing evilly and a wicked smirk worked its way across his lips for several feet away he caught sight of a blonde haired man in a white dress shirt carrying a briefcase. What was so special about that specific briefcase and man however was that the case was attached to the man's wrist via a rather fetching metal cuff.

"I am so awesome." Gilbert boasted to himself at his fortune before starting forward intently, nudging anyone who got in his way to the side in order not to lose sight of his blonde haired target.

Natalia, who had been also pursuing Matthew and by extension the case he holds was steadily but stealthily keeping a safe distance from the blonde when a commotion behind her grabbed her attention. Twisting her head around with a scowl of hells fury she saw the albino from earlier pushing past several people, ignoring their complaints or protests.

Natalia wondered why he was in such a hurry as the man should still be doubled over in pain after she punched him. Though she briefly entertained the idea he was still coming after he that thought was dismissed when she realized he was not paying her the slightest heed. Natalia turned back to follow the gaze of that pair of red eyes and realized what he was targeting was the same as she.

"No." She hissed furiously as she realized Gilbert's intent. He planned on grabbing the blonde who had tied her up on the train right there in the middle of the street. She acted quickly and thrust her leg out in the charging albino's path, Gilbert tripping over the extended limp with an expression of surprise and a curse as he impacted the road.

"What the fuck are you doing you god damn bitch." Gilbert demanded furiously as he glared at the platinum haired woman once he managed to straighten from his fall.

"Moronic fool, are you blind." Natalia cursed the German.

"Huh?" Natalia huffed and marched past Gilbert, stepping on his hand as she passed for good measure. Gilbert snarled in pain and rose to his feet, prepared to resume his pursuit of the briefcase when he noticed a large and very intimidating man standing next to the blonde and talking to him.

Bodyguards, Gilbert thought with a pause and frown of distaste. No wonder that Belarusian didn't want Gilbert getting too close as he would likely put them on their guard. In addition Gilbert would most likely be eaten or something by the tall intimidating one but he doubted Natalia cared much about that. Of course Gilbert would hardly be concerned if their positions would be reversed and would likely season the Belarusian for the Swede to eat. Because paprika was awesome. Oregano less so.

Moving on!

While Gilbert was having his planning crisis and contemplations of best ways to serve Belarusian and Natalia was busy sneering at him derisively while surreptitiously keeping one eye closely attuned to the blonde with the briefcase Matthew was busy trying to resist the overpowering urge to strangle Yong-soo following an ill timed comment.

"I told you, in our first year of college mind you, to stop selling nude photos of me on the internet." Yong-soo grinned innocently at the Canadian but it was clear from the glower on his friend's face it was not working.

"Ok but they weren't nude." Yong-soo defended animatedly using his most believing smile and hand gestures.

"Then why did I wake up this morning to you standing over my bed with a digital camera? Again!" Matthew demanded, a slight flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. The Asian smiled sheepishly and quickly glanced at the Nordic men around him sans Mathias as it was his turn to guard the apartment. Everyone avoided his gaze (aside from Berwald but the Korean had trouble meeting his eyes at any time) meaning he had no support in this matter.

"The ones I took were only semi nude thanks to your boxers. And I was only emailing the nude ones to a very well known Korean medical journal for reference." Yong-soo told Matthew after being unable to garner sympathy from the other men present. Matthew narrowed his eyes at the Korean and raised an accusatory finger.

"Then tell me what the name of the magazine is?" Matthew demanded. Yong-soo scoffed and waved off the inquiry into his story.

"It's not a magazine you would know about." Yong-soo explained.

"You said it was well known." Matthew challenged hotly.

"Well yeah, but not here. It did originate in Korea you know." Yong-soo smiled brightly, sparkles forming in the air around him at the proclamation. Matthew scowled darkly and poked the other man in the sternum to punctuate every word.

"No. More. Photos." Yong-soo pouted and crossed his arms sullenly.

"But it's so boring. I mean who knows how long we have to wait for Ludwig to show up. I was booored." Yong-soo whined pitiably. Matthew scowled but eventually just sighed in resignation as it was in fact true. The previous evening Mathias had returned and, regardless of being horribly intoxicated, managed to relay that Ludwig was not in Berlin and he had no clue when he was returning. The general consensus of everyone was that they should wait for him in Berlin as it would be pointless to go elsewhere and try to find him since they did not have the slightest clue where he would be.

So now they played the waiting game. A game that Yong-soo was very, very bad at. That was why Matthew decided to try and find something, anything, to keep them occupied during the day and make sure that Yong-soo had something to do aside from tormenting him. This was also the reason he and Yong-soo along with everyone excluding Mathias who was nursing a hangover were walking around Berlin.

"That's nice Yong-soo and exactly why we're out here." Matthew reminded the Asian before he ran into Berwald who had abruptly stopped in the middle of the road. "Ow, god. I'm s-so sorry." Matthew immediately proclaimed as he stepped back and raised his hands pleadingly and to shield him. Berwald however did not respond as he stood like a statue staring at a building. Matthew and Tino exchanged a look before the Canadian peered around the Swede to see what he was staring at.

"... A theatre?" Matthew asked in confusion. Berwald nodded in affirmation of the other blonde's assessment.

"Y's. Mamma Mia." Berwald added before pointing to the sign advertising that particular play.

"Oh whaddya ya know it is." Yong-soo added, peering over Matthews shoulder at the sign. "Hey, did you know Abba originated in-." Yong-soo abruptly stopped and bit his lower lip fearfully as Berwald turned to him, his face menacing and seemingly generating a shadow over his features regardless of the fact that it was daytime out.

"Wh't w're you sayin'?" Berwald asked slowly. Yong-soo and Matthew gulped in terror and the Asian rapidly shook his head.

"N-nothing, I love Abba, particularly their costumes. Very sparkly. Right Mattie?" Yong-soo asked the Canadian he was currently hiding behind desperately who responded with a fervent nod of agreement.

"Oh y-yeah, t-they were g-great." Berwald stared at them for a moment, sure that he had heard the Korean say something different before letting it go with a shrug to turn back and view the sign. The assembled Norwegian, Icelander, Fin, Canadian and Korean breathed a sigh of relief that Yong-soo had at least some sense of self preservation.

"D-did you want to see it Berwald?" Tino tentatively asked in the hopes of putting what Yong-soo may have said out of the giants mind. Berwald whipped his head around in surprise (Tino starting nervously at the motion) and slowly nodded before looking back at the sign.

"Y's. I once al'ost w's 'n Mamma Mia 'n colleg'." Berwald told them, oddly nostalgic. Everyone but Norge exchanged a look but dared not interrupt the man in his reminiscing. "I w's goin' t' b't I w's embarrassed." Matthew said nothing but really wondered exactly what Berwald had looked and sounded like when he tried to sing. The Canadian had a hard time picturing it and judging by everyone else's expressions they were evidently had the same issue.

"Really, that's great Berwald." Emil chimed after wiping his confused expression off his face. Berwald nodded once to the man but his eyes remained trained on the theatre until he turned to it once again.

"It was. I g't t' wear a c'stume th't look'd like the one's Abba wore." Berwald reminisced with an almost fond look on his usually terrifying and imposing visage. Matthew and Yong-soo cocked their heads to the side in thought. Berwald plus skin tight clothes covered in reflective material.

"Wow." Gilbert murmured from his hiding spot of peeking around the corner of a building to spy on Matthew and Yong-soo.

"Indeed." Natalia agreed, the woman having been the first one to claim the spying spot before Gilbert had shown up and since killing the albino in a public place would likely get her caught she had refrained from doing so, for now. However she felt compelled to agree with him as she observed the expressions on both Yong-soo and Matthew's faces as they gazed at Berwald, who was staring at the theatre obliviously.

Their expressions could only be described as complete and utter horror. Their mouths were slacked open and their eyes were twitching sporadically as though their brains were short circuiting and sending random messages to the body, their eyes themselves were dilated and glassy as though blinded by mental images.

Tino noticed the state of his companions as both Emil and Norge (to a much less visible degree) were in much the same boat as Matthew and Yong-soo. Tino was fortunate if you could call it that as he had seen something far worse, the actual outfit one evening when he had walked in on Berwald unexpectedly. Apparently he was unconscious for two days following. At any rate Tino quickly shook the four men awake lest Berwald notice their state and determine the cause. Eventually the Fin managed to recover them from their shock without the use of defibrillation.

"Uh, s-so Berwald, the show starts soon, would you like to grab a ticket?" Tino asked the Swede. Berwald shook himself from his reminiscing and nodded slowly, attempting to smile in happiness. Sadly, it turned into more of a grimace and caused several nearby children to scream in fear.

"Oh, perfect look. Keep that face Berwald, we might be able to get them to cut the ticket price if you like that." Yong-soo encouraged before gently turning the Swede around and pushing him towards the ticket office, shuddering once Berwald was turned around and couldn't see him. Matthew and the others followed quickly afterwards and were practically shoved through the doors of the theatre house by a frightened ticket master who took one look at Berwald attempting to smile and fairly threw their tickets at them without even counting the money handed to him.

"They're going in the theatre." Gilbert stated in interest. Silence met his proclamation though causing the albino to look about in confusion. "Hey, where'd she-." Gilbert started when he saw Natalia quickly moving through the crowd and towards the ticket box with a sadistic grin on her face. "Oh hell no." Gilbert growled as he rushed forward to catch the small woman.

Natalia grinned evilly. She had it all planned out. First she was going to enter the theatre, then in the pre show crowd she would wait until the blonde was separated from the herd and strike him in the head wi-.

"Move it shorty." Gilbert shouted as he shoved Natalia to the ground and quickly stepped over her to move up the steps to the theatre. Natalia was surprised by the sudden treatment but nevertheless grabbed his ankle causing Gilbert to fall on the ground as well. "Ow." Gilbert spat before he once again kissed the pavement as Natalia stepped on his head to climb a few more steps. Gilbert's retort was to suddenly force himself upward causing the Belarusian to lose her balance and fall to her knees a few feet ahead of Gilbert.

"Damn you just stay out of my way." Natalia ordered as Gilbert scrambled past her.

"Make me." He cackled as he passed her once again before a shoe smashed in to back of her head. "Ouch! No shoes." He ordered holding the offending footwear.

"I don't care." Natalia hissed as she ran past him. These events continued for several minutes following that declaration leaving both Prussian and Belarusian in a sorry state upon arrival at the entrance to the theatre.

"One for Mamma Mia!" They both shouted at the poor youth in the ticket booth before glaring at each other.

"T-that will be thirty Euros each p-please." The ticket master stuttered. Gilbert pulled out his wallet and froze when he opened it. He had forgotten that he was broke, having spent the remainder of the money he had 'found' at Ludwig's house partying following his meeting with the Englishman in celebration of his new job. Natalia noticed his downcast expression and smirked darkly before handing over the money.

"Bye bye." She told Gilbert victoriously before striding into the theatre leaving the albino at the door quivering in impotent rage.

()()()

"Come on Mattie, I want a souvenir." Yong-soo pleaded with the Canadian, gripping the blondes sleeve and shaking it fervently like a child demanding something form an unwilling parent. This was evidently a common thought as Matthew was receiving some very strange looks from the other people in the crowded foyer, the theatre proper not yet open to the public to seat themselves.

"Just buy one yourself." Matthew argued, attempting to pull his arm and by extension his sleeve away from the Asians grasping fingers.

"I don't have any money on me." Yong-soo whined.

"What about the money you got from selling those," Matthew paused and leaned in closer to Yong-soo, "pictures." He hissed secretively and with no small amount of residual rage. Yong-soo huffed but released the Canadians sleeve to cross his arms and look to the side with a pout.

"It takes time for me to get the money from things like those since I need to bounce the signal around so that they can't trace me." Yong-soo explained before brightening. "Hey, how about this. You buy me a souvenir from that stand," Yong-soo pointed to a small souvenir booth set in the wall handing out various items for exorbitant prices, "and I stop taking and selling those pictures until the vacation is over." Matthew opened his mouth to protest but closed it after a moment to tap his chin in contemplation instead. It was actually a good deal despite appearances so Matthew nodded in acceptance of the terms.

"Alright fine but if I catch you doing it again I will get my hockey stick." Matthew threatened.

"Yay dazee!" Yong-soo cheered. Matthew rolled his eyes and turned to Tino who was standing nearby.

"I'm going to grab something from the souvenir booth, I'll meet you inside." Matthew informed the Fin, pointing to the booth on the other side of the hall. Tino glanced in the direction and nodded to the Canadian.

"Alright, see you there." Matthew gave another nod and moved away from his small group becoming yet another face in the crowd. Sliding through the masses nearly invisible to the people around him Matthew soon managed to make his way to the souvenir booth. The Canadian perused the items on the counter curiously, unsure of what to get Yong-soo. Between coffee mugs, cd's, shirts or posters he couldn't decide which was the cheapest item that would still shut Yong-soo up thus keep him away from photography equipment and Matthew's bed. Matthew looked curiously at the assembled souvenirs and picked up a t-shirt with the words Mamma Mia emblazoned across it.

What was Yong-soo's size again? Matthew wondered as he turned around to try and spot his Asian companion through the crowd.

He failed that task however when he spotted a woman in blue and white dress giving him a death glare from the crowd and smiling sadistically. Crazy knife lady Matthew thought as his fingers loosened on the t-shirt spastically and the item fell to the ground, unnoticed by the Canadian or Belarusian glaring at him with most assuredly cruel intentions.

"Oh shit." Matthew exclaimed when he realized the woman stood between him and his group.

Natalia was, of course, aware of that fact having intentionally waited until Matthew had moved away from the rest to reveal her presence. Her grin widened when she thought of all the things she was going do to the blonde who had embarrassed her before Ivan and eluded her twice. She couldn't wait to get her fingers around his throat and squeeze until he-

Wait, where'd he go. Natalia hissed in fury and spun around until she spotted the Canadian flitting through the crowd and away from her. "Bastard." She hissed before going after him, shoving her way through the people now moving towards the inside of the theatre to claim their seats, ignoring some indignant looks she occasionally received.

Before taking this vacation, Matthew never thought that he would wish he was invisible again. But having a crazed knife wielding woman who wanted to kill you and chop off your arm chasing you through a crowded foyer of people waiting to see Mamma Mia tended to alter ones perspectives on priorities. In the spirit of this Matthew slipped through the crowd as lightly as a ghost but he could ever feel Natalia's blue eyes boring into his back.

Luckily Matthew spotted a nearby door guarded by a black clothed security guard. In his haste to escape the Canadian ran towards the door in the wall, slipping through while the guard beside it was looking elsewhere only for the security personnel to twist his head back around when the door closed with a light click.

The security guard was about to investigate when another person ran up to the door and grabbed the door knob. "Hey! You can't go in there." He barked before grabbing the door knob as well to prevent the smaller woman in the blue dress from opening it. Natalia turned her head to glare at the man viciously.

"Out of my way." She hissed darkly. The guard blanched slightly but held firm to glare right back.

"Personnel and cast only are allowed in the dressing rooms." He informed her. Natalia's rebuttal took the form of her fist smashing into the guards face causing the unfortunate fellow to fall back and hit his head on the wall as well.

That dual punishment to his cranium was sadly all he could take and the unfortunate guard slumped against the wall unconscious but on his feet, propped up like a marionette without strings against the wall. Natalia gave the incapacitated guard a last scathing look before pushing into the dressing room and closing the door behind her.

Natalia paused on the other side of the door and examined where she was. It appeared to be a short hall lined with doors with a turn at the end from which the sound of voices and movement could be heard. Natalia immediately set off towards the sound of voices with a determined pace, idly noting that the words written on the doors said such things as Audio and the ilk. She ignored them however as they appeared to be locked and besides anyone in those rooms likely would have thrown out her target.

Natalia soon reached the end of the hall and turned the corner to find what appeared to be a dressing room. Vanities lined the walls with people applying last minute makeup and various costume racks lined the floor. The hubbub of voices filled the hall making it difficult for Natalia to get a fix on any one voice.

"Howdy, can I help ya little lady." Natalia hissed slightly and whirled about in surprise, so fixated was she on looking for her prey she had failed to notice someone behind her. When Natalia saw who had snuck up on her she was surprised yet again for standing before her was a man with short blonde hair dressed in a white shirt and brown vest with a sheriff badge pinned to it, a ten gallon hat on his head and a massive black moustache on his face almost hiding his mouth. The man stood before Natalia with his hands clasped behind his back looking down at her curiously. Cast member Natalia immediately realized as no sane person would willingly wear such an outfit. "Well, do ya need a hand?" He asked again. Natalia growled slightly but nodded, recognizing that every second she wasted her prey was likely escaping.

"Yes. Did a blonde with glasses run through here with a briefcase attached to his wrist?" Natalia demanded of the cowboy. The actor hummed and scratched his chin before snapping his fingers and pointing at a closet labelled costumes.

"Matter of fact I did. Fellah like that ran by here just a few seconds ago and ran intah that room over yonder." The cowboy informed Natalia lightly.

"You're mine." Natalia hissed to herself in delight as she spun around, not even bothering to thank the cowboy before sprinting to the indicated room. Throwing open the door Natalia barged in, slipping her knife out and holding it loosely. Flinging open the door she smirked in delight at the rows of clothes hanging on the racks, costumes that had not been pulled out for the particular play on at the moment.

"I know you're here." Natalia told the room with an evil smile as she took several steps inside and closed the door behind her to cut off the escape. "You may as well come out; I'm going to find you eventually." The Belarusian waited for a reply but there was none, the room remaining silent. Natalia walked over to the first rack of costumes and pushed them aside to peer at the space behind them. Sadly, it was devoid of life but she remained undiscouraged.

Fifteen minutes later however she was starting to get a little peeved. "Where is he?" She hissed furiously. "He said he saw the idiot go in here." Natalia complained as she violently shoved yet more clothes aside to reveal nothing yet again.

A though occurred when she mentioned the man who had told her where the blonde she was chasing had hidden. Namely, that thought was why a cowboy would be in a play like Mamma Mia. A cowboy who had also kept one arm behind his back while talking to her.

"God Dammit!" She shrieked to the heavens before rushing back to the door and flinging it open. The dressing room was empty as the cast had moved onto the stage. However there was in fact a brown vest, fake moustache and a ten gallon hat neatly folded as though as an apology for using them and placed on the counter of a nearby vanity.

"Bastard!" Natalia screeched as she swept the costume off the vanities counter to fall on the ground with an unimpressive sound resembling fwump.

**Two words, Calgary Stampede. This chapter went in a variety of directions actually before ending up here but this is the best one I could come up with. However, I'm not totally satisfied.**


	13. Das Auto

**I am receiving a vision of the past!**

_A though occurred when she mentioned the man who had told her where the blonde she was chasing had hidden. Namely, that thought was why a cowboy would be in a play like Mamma Mia. A cowboy who had also kept one arm behind his back while talking to her._

"_God Dammit!" She shrieked to the heavens before rushing back to the door and flinging it open. The dressing room was empty as the cast had moved onto the stage. However there was in fact a brown vest, fake moustache and a ten gallon hat neatly folded as though as an apology for using them and placed on the counter of a nearby vanity._

"_Bastard!" Natalia screeched as she swept the costume off the vanities counter to fall on the ground with an unimpressive sound resembling fwump._

Gilbert grumbled as he stomped up the steps in the alley behind the theatre leading to an emergency exit, the red sign marking it as such flickering a little in the evening light. "God damn bullshit, not letting the awesome me in..." The Prussian muttered to himself in annoyance. After being denied access from the front door Gilbert had gone around to every other entrance he could think of to try and get into to building but to no avail. Gilbert grabbed the door knob and tried to open the door but only managed to jiggle the knob to the large exit futilely.

"Shit." Gilbert cursed and leaned on the metal railing beside to doorway, crossing his arms for lack of anything better to do with them. As Gilbert pondered his next attempt at entering the theatre (perhaps a window?) the exit he was lounging by was suddenly thrust open, slamming into the Prussian and sending him tumbling over the railing and onto the pavement on the other side.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Gilbert barked in pain as he lay on the paved ground of the alley, refuse surrounding him in a mocking tableau of failure. It did not help his mood.

"Oh god I'm so sorry, are you alright?" A worried voice asked the prone Prussian. Gilbert looked up, squinting in the unaccustomed light spilling from the doorway and casting a shadow over the face of the blonde haired figure leaning over the banister in concern.

Wait, light from the doorway?

"Hold the door!" Gilbert shouted as he scrambled to his feet. The blonde jumped but spun around and stuck a foot in the path of the closing door, halting its progress and keeping it from shutting them out completely in the cold Berlin night air.

"Got it." Matthew declared somewhat confusedly as he glanced back, observing the Prussian finally make it to his feet and brush himself off with a light cackle of mirth.

"Awesome." Gilbert told the blonde as he quickly made his way around the railing to climb the steps once again. "Thanks buddy. I was starting to get pissed at not being able to get in there." Gilbert told the blonde as he took the doorknob from the other man.

"Oh, that's unfortunate. See ya." Matthew told the German with almost indecent haste as he waved goodbye and hurried away down the alley. Gilbert shrugged off the departure and entered the theatre, shutting the door behind him. Gilbert grinned evilly inside of the theatre, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of future events.

"Awesome, now I just need to... find... that... blonde..."Gilbert paused as he trailed off before slapping a hand on his forehead. "Oh come on!"

()()()

"This is really good dazee!" Yong-soo whispered to Tino seated next to him.

"It is a pretty good play." Tino whispered back to the Korean.

"Shhh." Emil hissed at them, holding a single finger to his lip to emphasise his point to the two men. "Do not interrupt him when he's like this." The Icelander whispered warningly to the other two giving a pointed look at the Swedish man sitting several seats away, his piercing blue eyes trained fixedly on the stage where several actors were singing.

"He hasn't blinked since he sat down." Norge added from his seat beside Emil. The four men were silent for a moment before curiosity overwhelmed them and they watched Berwald for a good ten minutes to confirm or refute the theory.

It was correct.

'Best day of my life.' Berwald thought happily as he continued to watch the stage eerily.

"Disturbing." Emil noted tentatively.

"Yeah." Tino added, unsure of exactly how or if he should defend Berwald from the comment. The quartet were quiet for a time following that, simply enjoying the musical styling of the play on the stage before them until Tino scratched his head in thought.

"I can't help but feel like we're forgetting about something. Are we?" Tino asked Yong-soo worriedly. The Korean looked at the ceiling and hummed in thought before shaking his head.

"Nope, can't think of anything."

()()()

"Get in the damn car!" Gilbert shouted furiously as he attempted to shove Matthew into the backseat of his car.

"No!" The Canadian protested, planting both feet on the sides of the entranceway to the vehicle and pushing away. Gilbert snarled and pushed on the blonde's shoulders harder in an attempt to force him into the car.

"This doesn't have to be so damn hard." Gilbert groused.

"You're kidnapping me!"

"And it would be a lot easier if you would get. In. The. Fucking. Car!" Gilbert spat before giving one more titanic shove to the blonde, Matthew's foot slipping from its place and sending him tumbling into the interior of the car. Gilbert slammed the door closed and reached to adjust his bandana before recalling it was missing, having been used to bind the Canadians hands when he had grabbed him at the mouth of the alley behind the theatre. The ensuing struggle to bring the Canadian to his car several blocks away and get him into it being something that could only be truly recounted in an epic the equal of the Iliad. The albino was just lucky no one had been around at the time. Gilbert gave one last relieved sigh before manoeuvring around his car and popping into the driver's seat, inserting his key into the ignition. Gilbert felt himself relax slowly as the engine rumbled to life and purred lowly like a pleased cat. Just for a moment, Gilbert was at peace leaving the earlier struggle behind him.

Sadly the object of the struggle chose that moment to gently inform the Prussian that he was still behind him, by kicking Gilbert in the back of the head.

"Stop that!" Gilbert barked to the backseat, narrowly dodging another attempt from Matthew of planting his foot in the albino's head once again.

"Let me go, it's disgusting back here!" Matthew demanded, glancing pointedly at the various odds and ends filling the backseat. "There's a fire extinguisher back here for god's sake." Gilbert noted the small fire retardant in the back seat (Ludwig having given it to him with a knowing look, the Prussian grudgingly taking it) but decided not to comment on it.

"I'm not letting my meal ticket go!" Gilbert refused harshly instead.

"Then I'll just kick you again." Gilbert hissed in displeasure at the thought and turned around to face the Canadian in his backseat with a fowl scowl twisting his features.

"If you don't stop kicking me then I swear to god I will just take the arm that has that briefcase." Gilbert warned. The threat was somewhat empty, Gilbert honestly didn't know in what state the Englishman he had received the job offer from wanted the kid but it seemed to have done the trick judging by the sullen silence and the way Matthew pulled his bound hands to himself protectively.

"Finally." Gilbert grumbled before rolling down the window to help him cool off before turning back to the road.

()()()

Arthur glanced down to the small screen showing a map attached to the cars dashboard, his brow knitted in focus as he eased the vehicle he was driving around a corner. A blinking light on the map another block away had Arthur grin in satisfaction. He was fortunate that Ludwig had registered his brothers car to have a GPS, apparently to find the vehicle should he need to track it down after one of Gilberts 'adventures' if the techie at MI6 who had hooked the Brit up to the signal could be believed.

Fortunately he had the foresight of bringing his own car for this mission, the tinted windows and reinforced frame having served him faithfully over the years. Though Arthur disliked becoming attached to the inanimate he professed certain affection for the vehicle he was in. He had used this car for many missions (repainting it often as a matter of course whenever it became necessary) and had altered it in hundreds of imperceptible ways to suit him specifically.

The moment Arthur had departed his hotel he had immediately called MI6 and asked them to locate Gilbert's car. After being bounced around most of the day through different departments involving some shouting, insults and a very drawn out story from a particularly lonely techie telling him all about her four cats (all named Henry for Christ's sake so Arthur soon became tired and confused about how 'Henry spotted Henry and then Henry blah blah blah) Arthur had finally gotten hold of Gilbert's vehicle information. True it was late in the day by the time he discovered Gilbert was driving a Volkswagen but that was all. However Arthur had every confidence in finding the Prussian.

Arthur's confidence was soon validated as he turned a corner, idly noting a theatre nearby just in time to see Gilbert duck into his car. Arthur quickly accelerated but the distance was enough that Gilbert had already pulled out by the time he was close enough.

"Bugger." Arthur cursed in annoyance as he sped up to tail the other car closely, honking his horn to attract the Prussians attention.

"The hell?" Gilbert demanded as he glanced into the rear view mirror to see the black car that had honked practically tailgating him, its tinted windows hiding the driver from his sight. "Who the hell is that?" Gilbert demanded. Matthew peeked over the back of the seat curiously and spotted the car tailing them with a gasp of surprise.

"What? What is it?" Gilbert demanded from the front seat but the Canadian shook his head, hunkering down behind the back seat and biting his lower lip nervously. Gilbert narrowed his eyes and twisted his head around to get a better look at the car following them but the tinted windows prevented Gilbert from seeing whoever was driving making it impossible for him to tell what they could want.

Or who they wanted.

Gilbert frowned and glanced at the blonde who was attempting to wriggle his hands out of the bandana binding them. If they were after the Canadian they must have known he was there and judging by the reaction he knew them too. And the only other person aside from the crazy girl that Gilbert had fought with was...

Realization hit Gilbert like a ton of bricks. He was being chased by the guy's bodyguards. "Screw that." Gilbert hissed as he slammed his foot on the accelerator causing his backseat passenger to yelp in surprise as he was thrown about like a rag doll.

Arthur blinked in surprise as the car in front of him suddenly accelerated away from him going well past the speed limit and weaving into traffic. "Bloody twit get back here." Arthur barked as he stepped on the gas as well to pursue the Prussian, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. Though Arthur knew he could likely find Gilbert again since he had the mans car information it was the principal of the thing blast it. If Arthur lost him now it would be a matter of pride.

Gilbert saw the black car behind him accelerate as well and quickly close the distance. "Ha, he thinks he can catch me." Gilbert cackled as he spun around a corner, practically riding the curb as he sped along and Matthew bouncing around the backseat squawking in protest. Glancing once more in the mirror Gilbert observed the black car swirl around the corner moments after him, the squeal of rubber grating harshly on his senses.

"Christ they really want you back." Gilbert grumbled angrily as he twisted around yet another corner causing an elderly man about to cross the street to jump back in surprise and curse roundly in German. Matthew was silent in the back seat, gripping a seat belt for dear life with white knuckles as he was tossed around with cries of alarm and pain as various items Gilbert had shoved into the back seat at various points in time slammed, smacked or jabbed into him depending on their shape in relation to where they impacted the quivering ball of nerves that was Matthew Williams.

"Let's see if he can follow this." Gilbert snickered as he swung the car around a corner and applying his brakes causing the vehicle to spin on its wheels with a screech of tires, the car finally halting to face the opposite direction.

Arthur just turned the corner in time to see Gilbert's car speed past him in the opposing direction. "Blasted twit!" Arthur cursed before pulling a similar manoeuvre and returning to the chase.

"This is ridiculous, how can they keep up with the awesome me?" Gilbert groused as he turned his head to see how far away the other car was. The albino blinked in surprise as he found his vision of the rear of the car obscured by a large black funnel. "Errrr-."

Arthur raised his prominent brows in curiosity at the sight before him. Admittedly the manoeuvre he had just performed in order to continue chasing Gilbert had surprised even himself what was more shocking was the fact that Gilbert's car was swerving all over the road and spewing a white cloud out of one of the windows. "What the bloody hell is that arse doing?" Arthur wondered. Tactic wise it was certainly original, particularly how it swerved into a side street with another squeal of rubber.

Arthur was so deadest on keeping up with the other vehicle that as he turned to follow he failed to realize that the Prussians car had turned into a dead ended alley and was thus now stopped. As such, Arthur rear ended the other vehicle thoroughly smashing the front of his car, back of Gilberts and his own face as the airbag deployed.

Arthur remained there for a moment, his visage cushioned in the cloudlike softness of the air bag as he contemplated how stupid he just was before he violently shoved his way out of his vehicle with a grunt. With a series of curses accompanying him like a chorus of angry old men Arthur stomped over to the driver's side window of the car he had crashed into and slammed his fist on the glass several times.

"Gilbert, get your bloody arse out here. What the devil did you think you were doing out there with your damn antics?" Arthur demanded furiously. After a moment the door cracked open and Gilbert fell to the pavement breathing heavily with a thump. Arthur tapped his foot impatiently, freezing when Gilbert looked up at him in confusion.

"Arthur?" Gilbert demanded in confusion.

"Gilbert you look... whiter, if possible." Arthur stated in surprise.

It was true; the Prussian's front from the top of his head to his shoulder was covered in a white powder like substance that clung to him as though magnetically charged. Abruptly, the red eyes of the albino cleared of the fog of befuddlement and he shot to his feet with a scowl of displeasure.

"Arthur? What the hell man it was you! Why did you rear end me like that?" Gilbert demanded furiously.

"Well you star-."

"Oh crap the backseat!" Gilbert shouted rapidly turning and throwing open the backdoor of the car revealing the same powder like white residue covering the Prussian to have coated the interior as well. The object of perpetration being the fire extinguisher Gilbert had left there and was no lying on the seat, spent. Gilbert stared; slack jawed at the alley wall on the opposite side of the car, this feat possible because the door on the other side of the car was open as well.

"Aughhhhhh, son of a bitch he got away!" Gilbert raged, slamming a fist on the roof of his car with a loud bang of metal.

"What the devil are you going on about?" Arthur demanded, tired of being ignored so disrespectfully by the other man. Gilbert whirled on him and shoved an accusing finger in his face.

"This is your god damn fault. If you hadn't started chasing me than I would still have the little bastard."

"Who the hell are you talking about?" Arthur shouted.

"The guy with the briefcase! It was only because I'm so damn awesome that I even found him the first freaking time and now thanks to you he got away eyebrows!" Gilbert spat, spittle flying from his mouth so enraged was he.

"Who are you calling eyebrows!"

"You retard!"

()()()

Yong-soo yawned grandly and stretched his arms over his head, the joints cracking audibly as they moved once again after so long inactive as he trotted down the steps of the theatre. "That was great dazee! Not as great as theatre from Korea of course since it did originate there after all but still pretty great!"Tino nodded, so pleased with how the relaxing evening had gone that he even let the other mans somewhat annoying nature pass in favour of not spoiling his cheery mood.

"It was... satisfactory." Norge stated with a nod of finality and, perhaps, even grudging acceptance. Emil stared at the Norwegian in something akin to shock while Berwald nodded in agreement.

" 't w's good." Berwald told them, almost cracking a smile (literally, his companions had been swapping theories over what may happen if Berwald actually managed to smile and the most popular has been that his face will split open like a ripped piece of paper).

Abruptly, Tino paused on the sidewalk, cocking his head to the side curiously. "Do you guys hear that?" This Finnish man inquired. The others paused and listened intently, soon able to make out the sound that had garnered Tino's attention. The assembled men all turned to the right where the sound of metal slowly scraping against the side walk could be heard which was the out of the ordinary sound that warranted attention. Nearby, a street lamp flickered revealing a shadowy form hunched over dragging a rectangular object along the paved ground behind him.

"Ho-ly shit." Yong-soo proclaimed as the light finally illuminated the haggard figure of Matthew, eyes vacant and unseeing as he dragged the metal briefcase still attached to his wrist behind him producing the screeching sound that had caught Tino's attention.

The assembled Asian and Nordic men could only stare as Matthew finally came within but feet of them and looked up blearily.

Then he collapsed face first into the pavement. This action spurred everyone from their states of shock and they collectively rushed forward to crowd around him, Emil hoisting the Canadian up by his shirt to try and examine him more carefully.

"Matthew, Matthew speak up! What happened?" Emil demanded with concern etched on his face.

"I-I-."

"Yes, yes?" Emil prompted.

"I-I'm in incredible amounts of pain right now." Matthew managed to utter in a weak voice, his eyes somewhat dull and listless.

"Oh my god, is he going to be alright?" Tino asked in concern, wringing his hands in worry.

"Damn it you people aren't asking the right questions." Yong-soo chastised before grabbing the Canadian from the Icelander. "Give him here. Matthew, Matthew can you hear me?" Yong-soo asked gently.

"Yes." Matthew groaned, eyes fluttering open with a weak smile of hope, his rescue seeming to be at hand.

"Listen carefully and answer as clearly as you can. Did you get, my souvenir?"

"..."

"Is that a no?" Yong-soo asked.

Then Matthew snapped.

"Dieeeeeeee!" Matthew screeched, his eyes burning feverishly in rage as he attacked the Korean, fingers flying for the other mans throat.

"Get him off him!" Tino shouted, attempting to pry the Canadian off the Korean.

"No no! The evil one must die!" Matthew shouted as he choked the Korean, fingers tightening like a vice.

"Grab his legs."

"Got 'm." Berwald grunted as he pulled Matthew's legs, separating him from the Asian's throat after several strong tugs.

"Nooooo!" Matthew protested as both Norge and Emil grabbed him and held him tightly as he attempted to struggle past them and attack Yong-soo again.

"Calm down." Norge ordered, the Canadians struggles gradually lessening until he was slumped over, panting in exertion while Tino helped Yong-soo stand.

"Ok, let me go. I'm cool, I'm cool." Matthew declared, Emil and Norge gradually releasing the Canadian to stand on his own two feet. Yong-soo panted and rubbed his throat sorely.

"... So does that mean our deal is off?" Yong-soo asked after a moment of silence between everyone.

"Gahhhhhhhhhh!"

"Grab him!"

"Someone sedate him!"

"Ow! He bit me!"

()()()

The low hum of a computers fan filled the room with their calming music prompting Eduard to relax fractionally. He was home here; this was his sanctuary to be surrounded by the low whir of his laptop as it operated precisely as he had intended it, which was more than he could say for more or less everything else that had been occurring for the past week. Eduard sighed before sipping from a nearby cup of coffee. Setting the mug down the Estonian rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the screen once more before he broke into a grin.

"Finally." He whispered before grabbing a nearby phone and pressing speed dial.

"What?" Ivan's voice coldly demanded through the receiver.

"Mister Ivan, I am nearly finished downloading that lead I was emailed earlier from my source." Eduard enthusiastically told the Russian on the other end of the line. A clattering sound came from the receiver and Eduard pulled it away from his ear to stare at it curiously. His silent question was soon answered when the sound of heavy rapid footsteps sounded in the house, gradually increasing in volume until the door to Eduard's room slammed open to reveal Ivan wearing his normal coat hastily thrown on, his signature scarf and a bottle of Vodka.

"Show me Eduard. Now!" Ivan ordered quickly striding into the room and looming over Eduard. So pleased and confident was Eduard in his work that he did not even quiver or cower before Ivan but rather he jumped from his chair and pulled it back for the Russian. Ivan sat down, the chair creaking slightly before he pulled it forward and took hold of the mouse.

"I was honestly surprised myself that I managed to find this information. It was buried pretty deeply and I had to pay a fair amount of money to get my hands on it." Eduard boasted proudly as Ivan clicked the mouse around the screen. "Of course with my abilities it was only a m-."

"Eduard." Ivan interrupted with a cold voice. "What file is it under?" Ivan demanded.

"Um, it's under case file." Eduard replied, slightly abashed.

"Is that so? You see Eduard, I just opened that file and was wondering why exactly it is filled with half naked pictures of Alfred god damn Jones!" Ivan spat, spinning the screen so that Eduard could see a picture of a blonde man curled in a bunch of blankets with his mouth agape in a snore silenced by the nature of the photograph, a single blonde curl caught in mid bob over his face. The Estonian started in surprise when he saw the image on the screen before nervously drumming his fingers together, glancing from side to side fearfully.

"Ah, er, that is... Um..." Ivan chuckled somewhat darkly at the Estonians stuttered attempt at an explanation before rising from the chair to tower over Eduard once again though this time the bespectacled man did indeed quake in fear.

"You know Eduard; I once had a television when I was young. It was an older model and it didn't work correctly sometimes. So, now and then I had to fix it. Do you know how I did so Eduard?" Ivan asked, smiling cheerfully.

"N-no mister I-Ivan." Eduard stuttered fearfully.

"Of course not Eduard. You see, that old television had a loose piece inside of it so I had to knock it back into place to make sure it worked correctly, as it was supposed to. Since it was on the inside I could only fix it by hitting it. Do you understand?" Ivan asked with mock pleasantness. "Of course you do. Now hold still Eduard while I 'fix' you." Ivan cracked his knuckles with a childish grin of delight.

"W-wait, sir! Wait, h-hold on sir, m-maybe, m-maybe, Wait! S-sir, how d-did th-they get those photos!" Eduard shouted, cowering before the giant, arms covering his head to shield him from the anticipated blows that would rain upon him. When no strikes landed on him Eduard tentatively peeked from behind his arms to see Ivan stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"That is... a very good point Eduard. How indeed did they take those pictures and know to send me a picture of that accursed American? Not to mention in such a position as that." Ivan mused, expanding on the idea presented to him with fervour.

"Th-that's right sir!" Eduard enthusiastically prompted, attention diverted from him. He wasn't called the smart one just because he was good with computers after all. Ivan was silent as he thought before snapping his fingers decisively.

"Of course, they seek to focus my attention back on Alfred by making it appear that he is taunting me causing us to be preoccupied with each other. In the meantime they continue with their own agenda, quite clever actually. Their subtlety is not to be underestimated Eduard. " Ivan told Eduard with the grin of a child who had solved a difficult puzzle.

()()()

"Get that broken bottle away from him!"

"No! I need to end Yong-soo to protect future generations!"

"It wasn't broken when he found it."

"I don't care get it away from him."

"Hey Mattie don't worry I already sold the photos I don't need anymore dazee!"

"Arghhhhhhh!"

"For God's sake hold him down."

**That driving scene was torture, I'm just glad it's done now. Ugh. Anyway, read and review and as usual I'm sorry if I butchered Sweden's accent. I wonder if I should upgrade it to M considering the blatant use of the F-word but I would rather not.**


	14. Sobering Regrets

"Once again I would just like to express my deepest, deepest apologies to all of you for my actions last night. I know I already said that I was sorry but I can't help but still feel bad about what happened when I tried to kill Yong-soo." Matthew apologetically told the other men in the apartment facing him on couches and chairs while the Canadian sat on a single chair facing them all. The room under other circumstances could nearly be considered the waiting area for people in line for the emergency room in a hospital. Almost everyone was sporting bandages, bruises or cuts of various kinds and severity. "I'm really sorry Berwald for kicking you in the face, and then calling you... things that I would rather not repeat." Matthew told the Swede who nodded back to him, a slight bruise on his cheek the evidence of the mentioned injury Matthew had inflicted on him.

"'s ok'y." Berwald told the other blonde with a hand raised to inform Matthew no ill will was between them.

"Uhm, okay then." Matthew responded before turning to the next man in line. "Tino, I'm very sorry for biting your arm, and then your hand. And I am really, really sorry for, uh... w-well, kicking you in the crotch like that. I don't know what came over me." Matthew apologized, bowing his head in a subservient manner to better express his sincerity of the apology.

Tino smiled if somewhat weakly and self-consciously rubbed the bandage on his hand hiding a set of teeth marks from view. "It's okay Matthew; I understand. You were just really stressed out." Tino told the Canadian.

"Thanks Tino." Matthew told the man and gave the kind Fin a grateful smile before turning to the next person in line, Tino adjusting an ice pack over his vital regions with a grimace as soon as the blonde had looked away.

"Norge," Matthew began as his violet eyes alighted on the stoic Norwegian, staring impassively as ever. Matthew paused as he looked at the man and took a slow deep breath, mentally preparing himself. "I want to tell you that I am so very, very sorry for trying to gut you with a broken bottle until you smacked it out of my hand." The stoic Norwegian nodded in understanding of the apology. Matthew convulsively looked down to his chest where the man's shirt hid the bandages and the shallow wound the Canadian had inflicted. "I'm also r-really sorry for also r-ruining your shirt." Matthew told him, somewhat hesitantly as though unaware of whether or not it was appropriate.

"It was fine. I needed to wash that shirt regardless ergo I was not as depressed as opposed to if it had been one of my clean ones." Norge told the Canadian in monotone. Matthew blinked and looked to the side somewhat awkwardly, unsure if the Norwegian was making fun of him or not.

"O-oh, okay then. Thank you." Matthew told Norge, deciding to take him at face value as his expression would not change.

"No problem." Norge answered without skipping a beat. Matthew nodded in satisfaction and turned to the Icelander in the room.

"Emil."

"Yes?" The Icelander asked, curious as to exactly what the Canadian would apologize for considering he had not actually been injured by the crazed Canuck during his rampage.

"I just want to say thanks for keeping Yong-soo away from me until I calmed down."

"Oh, no problem." Emil assured Matthew. Matthew sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair, the feeling of a great weight lifting from his shoulders helping him relax contentedly into the embrace of his seat.

"Does that mean I can come out of the closet now?" Yong-soo's muffled voice chimed in from behind a closed door, a chair propped underneath the doorknob in lieu of a lock.

"No. No you may not." Matthew answered with a frown of displeasure.

"Hey wait, you aren't going to apologize to me?" Matthew blinked in surprise and puzzlement as he looked to the spiky haired Dane who had spoken.

"Um, I beg your pardon?" Matthew asked in bewilderment.

"I don't want to be left out. You apologized to Norge so why not me?" Mathias demanded hotly. Matthew looked to Norge for some assistance but he Norwegian had pulled out a book and was fixedly ignoring the conversation. Matthew twisted his head back to Mathias once it became apparent he had no support.

"I uh, don't know what I should apologize for." If anything, Matthew felt that it was Mathias who should be apologizing considering the axe incident. Mathias scowled and tilted his head to the side in thought as he attempted to think of some reason he could use to make Matthew apologize to him. After a minute he brightened visible much to everyone's concern.

"I know, let's go drinking!" Mathias enthusiastically declared with a broad grin as he stood up.

"Wait, why drinking?" Matthew asked in further confusion.

"Well, by the end of it someone is going to be saying sorry." Matthias remarked before grabbing the Canadians wrist and pulling him towards the door.

"Wait, I don't wanna!" Matthew protested before Mathias dragged him outside the apartment.

Emil sighed and stood to follow. "I'll make sure they get back after their done." Emil remarked before leaving the apartment as well with Mister Puffin in tow, shutting the door behind him with a dull thud.

"Can I come out now? It's dark and lonely in here." Yong-soo asked again after a minute of silence in the room.

()()()

Gilbert stared into the mirror across from himself, examining the blue military uniform he was wearing with a practiced eye, an iron cross decorating the collar of the attire and a pair of shiny black boots on his feet. The room reflected in the mirror was filled with odds and ends scattered about be they clothes, CD's or any number of other items all of which ranged from the mundane to the pointless be they a pair of stuffed pandas on the wall or a small pile of plates in the corner. This state of chaos in his surroundings did not perturb the Albino in the least as he looked himself up and down before taking a deep breath and preparing for his daily ritual. "Okay Gilbird let's do this, the awesome check list." Gilbert arrogantly declared with a cackle of mirth answered by a small chirp from a nearby birdcage and the yellow chick contained within. "Damn right. Okay, awesome outfit?" Gilbert demanded as he ran his hands over the blue uniform before nodding in satisfaction. "Check. Awesomely hot?" Gilbert grinned into the mirror, striking a slight pose. "Check! Awesome ass?" Gilbert turned around and, while his eyes remained glued to the mirror gave his rear a quick squeeze. "Damn str-." Gilbert yelped as a loud honk cut into his apartment from outside his apartment. Gilbert flushed in slight embarrassment at possibly being caught in such a compromising position before marching over to a nearby window, yanking the glass up to peer down at the street below. Gilbert narrowed his eyes when he spotted the somewhat short figure that was Arthur Kirkland glaring up at his window from his place on the sidewalk, a different car from the previous evening parked behind him on the street revealing his method of arriving at Gilbert's home.

"Gilbert, get yer arse down here!" Arthur shouted at the albino as soon as he spotted him. Gilbert scowled darkly at the man attempting to order him around and stuck his head out to properly shout at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Gilbert shouted harshly down at the Brit who frowned at him darkly.

"Business, now get down here or I'll come up there and drag you down here myself." Gilbert growled irritably but agreed nonetheless.

"Fine, give me a minute." Gilbert forced out before slamming the window closed with more force than likely necessary. Gilbert huffed and grabbed his Luger off a nearby table, stuffing it into his pocket with a scowl. The albino quickly made his way across the sea of refuse better known as his living room before grasping the doorknob, only to pause and look back to the birdcage in the corner.

"So long Gilbird, I'll be back later." Gilbert grinned at the answering chirp before opening the door and heading out. Gilbert quickly made his way down the apartment buildings hallway and towards the staircase, grumbling about his 'awesome self' having to go with the British man. Then again, he had little choice in the matter. After his brief shouting match with Arthur following their car crash he had been forced to bum a taxi ride off of the other man in order to return home. On the way there Arthur had almost reluctantly accepted that he could use Gilbert's help to find the guy with the briefcase since he actually had an idea of what the man looked like. Though confused at having been apparently fired at one point (probably during their chase scene) Gilbert was nevertheless enthusiastic at being rehired. Downside, he was working for the anal retentive prick known as Arthur Kirkland.

Gilbert slammed open the entrance of his apartment building and stomped over to the blonde who had dared to interrupt his ritual of routinely checking to make sure he was still one hundred percent awesome. "Alright, I'm here. Now what the hell did you want?" Gilbert demanded, stopping in front of Arthur.

"We're going to meet up with somebody today now come on." Arthur spat in obvious distaste as he gestured to the vehicle behind him. Gilbert looked at the car curiously, recalling the state of Arthur's car the previous evening.

"Where'd you get that?" Gilbert asked curiously.

"It's a rental." Arthur groused in obvious displeasure at having to rely on the machine instead of his normal means of conveyance.

"That so." Gilbert mused as he examined the shiny car with interest.

"Just get in the bloody car you twit." Arthur spat as he hopped into the driver's seat and slammed the door behind him, glaring at Gilbert from behind the glass into the albino moved into the passenger side. Arthur didn't even wait for Gilbert to finish closing the door before he accelerated into traffic, glaring at the road and refusing to look at the albino seated beside him.

"So where're we going?" Gilbert demanded after it became apparent that Arthur was hell bent on not willingly sharing with him.

"Don't talk to me right now." Arthur muttered darkly. Gilbert gave him an irritated look and leaned backwards into his seat, huffing in displeasure.

"Fine, be an ass." Gilbert grumbled sullenly.

"Fine if you're going to bloody pout we're going to a bar." Arthur spat, not bothering to look away from the road. Gilbert brightened visibly at the mention of liquor.

"Awesome, where is it?" Gilbert demanded fiercely.

"What the bloody hell do you care for?" Arthur refuted fiercely with a pointed glare. However Gilbert merely waved the murderous expression off nonchalantly.

"I need to know if there's good beer obviously." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Whatever, shut up and let me drive." Arthur ground out irritably. Gilbert grumbled but lapsed into an irate silence which permeated the car like a miasma until they finally stopped in front of a bar. Hopping out with both men marched into the stone building flanked closely by two other structures of similar make but different purposes.

Gilbert paused and looked around the bar as soon as he entered to get a lay of the land. Though the bar at the end of the room was atypical what was surprising was that there was a karaoke machine in the corner with round tables scattering the bar. A few booths were set against the walls and down near the corner a small gap in the wall held a hallway where both male and female bathrooms were located.

"Okay, send him over when he arrives." Gilbert twisted his head back around to see the British man he had come here with finish speaking with the bartender and move towards a booth, snatching a newspaper left behind at an empty table. Realising he was being left behind Gilbert quickly followed the Brit to a nearby booth where they both took a seat beside each other.

"So... What are we waiting for exactly?" Gilbert asked Arthur curiously as he shifted in his seat and looked around. "And where the hell is the waitress. I can't be as awesome as I should be without a beer." He groused.

"We're waiting for an idiot I know and his partner to show up here." Arthur responded, ignoring the latter comment about the bars service.

"So, how do you know he's going to show up here?" Gilbert snidely demanded. Arthur huffed and pushed his chest out.

"I have you know that I am a professional and have done extensive research to discover where they frequently go in order to anticipate their next move." Arthur stated confidently with a hand over his chest as though to reassure Gilbert that the amazing person he was describing was indeed himself.

"So, what's with the newspaper?" Gilbert demanded, miffed at the obvious challenge to his awesomeness by the interloper.

"I use it to add a degree of mysterious ambiance, like so." Arthur told Gilbert, holding up the newspaper so that it hid his features aside from the fingers on the corners of the paper holding it up. Gilbert stared at it in interest and nodded slowly.

"Ok, cool." Gilbert looked around for a moment before he frowned in displeasure. "Crap, there aren't anymore." Gilbert groused before his eyes returned to Arthur where they alighted in interest. "Hey, Limey." Arthur stiffened and lowered the paper to glare at the Prussian.

"What?"

"Gimme the paper there aren't anymore." Gilbert demanded.

"What? No, bugger off." Arthur growled.

"Come on, don't be a dick." Gilbert encouraged, lightly gripping the side of the paper.

"Shove it." Arthur spat, tightening his grip on the paper.

"Give it." Gilbert spat, grabbing the paper and pulling it towards him.

"No, get yer own." Arthur growled, pulling it back towards himself.

"There aren't any more give it to me."

"No!"

"Gimme!"

"Bugger off git!"

"Shwein!"

"Kraut!"

The two men tugged at the newspaper with each exclamation, both adamant in that they were in the right. Arthur defending his logic and the fact that he was the one who picked it up and Gilbert defending his right to being awesome, that is until a loud ripping sound came from the paper, a corner piece coming off in Gilberts hand. Gilbert growled and grabbed another piece of the news article, continuing the tug of war.

"You ripped it, leggo!" Arthur demanded but Gilbert just growled and yanked it back.

"Screw that give me that damn thing!"

"Go to hell!"

"Um, are we interrupting?" Arthur and Gilbert turned in surprise to see Alfred and Kiku watching them in curiosity, Alfred trying his best to stifle his laughter. Arthur flushed in shame at being caught fighting over a piece of paper like a child. Gilbert however felt his red eyes widen in surprise then narrow, an evil grin spreading over his face.

"Ha, I've got you now you sneaky little fucker." Gilbert growled gleefully at Alfred as he twisted away from Arthur.

"Huh?" Alfred managed to say before Gilbert tackled him to the floor with a crash.

"You're not getting away this time you little shit." Gilbert hissed before socking Alfred in the jaw. Alfred hissed in pain but did not bother with a reply. Verbally at least, instead he punched the other man in the face.

"That's what you get you cocky fu-ack!" Alfred gagged as Gilbert attached his fingers around his throat like a vice. Gilbert grinned evilly until he felt Alfred slam a knee into his gut, the wind rushing from the Germanics lungs like a Scotsman's bagpipes. As a result his finger also loosened allowing Alfred the opportunity to add a head butt into the mix causing Gilbert's teeth to clack painfully. Gilbert growled yet again and grappled with Alfred, the pair of men rolling around on the floor in a flurry of punches and kicks.

"We should intervene." Kiku stated in concern as he grabbed the albinos arm.

"I suppose." Arthur responded reluctantly as he grabbed the Prussians other arm. In his opinion they could have left the pair to sort themselves out for a little while but whatever. Together they pulled Gilbert off of Alfred and held him from going after the other man yet again while Alfred gasped in surprise and shock at the sudden assault.

"Dude, what the hell?" Alfred demanded.

""Shut up, I'm not letting you go again you wiry little bastard." Gilbert cursed, attempting to kick the American in a futile expression of rage. "You're gonna pay for making me crash my awesome car!" Gilbert spat. Alfred blinked in bafflement and looked to Kiku who shrugged in helplessness to answer.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur demanded more in curiosity than actual rage. Gilbert looked up until his red eyes met Arthur's green ones and he jerked his head in the direction of Alfred who had managed to regain his feet and was currently rubbing his throat.

"He's the one with the briefcase you want!" Gilbert exclaimed. Arthur looked at Alfred in surprise who was staring at them in shock before pointing at the Prussian.

"Wait, you met my imposter?" Alfred demanded. Gilbert looked at Alfred like the American was an idiot (which wasn't altogether an uncommon look truth be told).

"What? Imposter?" Gilbert demanded in confusion.

"Wait a tic, what's all this blather of an imposter?" Arthur demanded, releasing Gilbert to approach Alfred with a raised brow of curiosity.

"Yeah, the guy with the case looks just like me and he's the one I've been chasing this whole time." Alfred explained. Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead before gesturing to the booth he had been seated in but moments earlier, easily identified thanks to the mass of torn newspaper covering it.

"It seems this is becoming complicated. Alfred, come here a moment and tell me about what the devil is going on. Gilbert," Arthur turned to the Prussian, "go get a drink or something while we sort this out." Arthur stated authoritively.

"Fine, Christ. Whatever." Gilbert grumbled before stomping towards the bar, his hands shoved in his pockets with a pout. Behind him he could hear the American and Brit take their seats and begin conversing causing the Prussian to grimace in distaste. "Wasn't my god damn fault he looked like him." Gilbert grumbled in anger as he plopped down at a bar stool.

"What wasn't your fault?" Gilbert twisted his head to the side in surprise that someone had heard him to find the spiky haired blonde that had offered to buy him a round of beer several days ago. Mathias's eyes widened in surprise when he recognized who it was as well and he grinned, tipping his mug of beer in greeting. "Yo, how ya been?" He asked pleasantly.

"Hey, pretty good. Been a rough few days but ya know." Gilbert shrugged helplessly.

"Sucks buddy. Here, have one on me." Mathias told him passing a mug filled with foaming golden liquid. Gilbert grinned cheerfully and took the mug and took a deep drink. Gilbert brought the mug away from his lips with a pleased sigh and wiped his lips on the back of his sleeve.

"Thanks, needed that." Gilbert told Mathias as he put the mug back down. Mathias grinned in response and thumped the other man on the back jocularly.

"Awesome."

"Damn straight I am." Gilbert responded with a chuckle. "So what are you doing here anyway?" Gilbert asked curiously.

"Ah, I'm here to try and cheer up this guy I know. Apparently he freaked out a bit a yesterday so I figure what better way to calm down then a few beers." Mathias grinned cheerfully, holding his mug up for reference.

"Good plan, so where is he?" Gilbert queried.

"Ah he's getting some cash from our ride since I forgot my wallet. Our designated driver couldn't come in 'cause they won't let his bird in with him." Gilbert scowled darkly and slammed a fist on the bar.

"That's just plain wrong! How dare those bastards do something like deny a bird entrance. Birds are awesome as fuck!" Gilbert declared. "I didn't get sprayed in the face with a god damn fire extinguisher and slam my car into a freaking wall to have my birds rights denied!" Gilbert shouted passionately, slamming his fist a few more times on the bar.

()()()

Matthew was screwed. No, no that wasn't quite the word that could accurately portray the absolute doom that had descended on his head upon having come back from retrieving some money from Emil and saw as well as heard the albino who had attempted to kidnap him earlier at the table with Mathias. After hearing him describe the incident in which Matthew had escaped the blonde had fled to the bathroom where he was now hiding for fear of discovery.

Matthew was royally fucked.

A loud knocking on the bathroom door brought Matthew out of his depression, forcing him to look up at the door and realize exactly how long he had occupied the room. "S-sorry, sorry. I'll be right out." He called, hastily moving to the door and opening it.

"It's about damn time." Gilbert spat before his eyes widened in surprise and he shot forward, sticking his face in Matthews. "Hey, I know you!" Matthew froze, the door handle still in his hand as time seemed to slow down around him giving him a proper amount of time to mentally lament his luck. This took the form of him repeating 'oh shit' like a mantra in his head causing him to nearly miss what Gilbert told him next.

"You're… Alfred right?" Gilbert asked. At this point Matthew's brain went into overdrive upon seeing a lifeline seemingly offered from the heavens themselves.

"S-suuuure! Yes I am." Matthew declared winningly, grinning if somewhat weakly at the Prussian. Gilbert cackled and smacked the Canadian on the back, winding him slightly.

"I thought so. Hey, sorry man for what happened earlier, I didn't know. You just looked so much like this little prick!" Gilbert hissed, clenching his fists in front of them, visualizing Matthew in his hands begging for mercy. Apparently Matthew did not fail to understand the hidden meaning as his smile grew very tight.

"O-oh, d-do I?" Matthew queried nervously.

"Yeah you look just like him. Oh man, if I ever see that little fucker again I'm gonna pop out his eyeball from its socket, turn it around and make him watch as I stab him in the face. Then I'm gonna rip out his own spine and beat him to death with it." Gilbert cackled gleefully before turning back to Matthew, frowning slightly in concern. "You alright? You look a little pale there." Gilbert informed the slightly queasy looking blonde.

"Uh y-yeah, I'm fine. Just f-feeling a l-little bad. I'm gonna, um, go get some fresh air, excuse me." Matthew quickly told Gilbert, brushing past the Germanic quickly, the briefcase bumping into the Prussian slightly. Gilbert turned his head and watched as the Canadian left scratching the top of his head thoughtfully before his body pointedly reminded him there was a reason he had come to the bathroom in the first place. This served sufficient prompting for the Prussian to quickly enter the bathroom and lock the door behind him, lamenting about how quickly beer goes through you.

Matthew quickly sped to the door, bursting from the bar as though the hounds of hell were on his heels and eager for a taste. Matthew whipped his head around, searching for Emil in order to flee the bar as soon as possible only to see the Icelander's car pass by his position, travelling down the road and away from him.

"No, god damn it wait!" Matthew shouted, attempting to wave the vehicle down as it passed. Sadly, the driver and passenger were evidently ignorant of his presence as Matthew barely had time to see a frock of blonde hair in the passenger side seat before the car was gone.

"Aw crap. Damn it Mathias!" Matthew swore reasoning that it was the Dane that he had seen in the passenger side seat and had encouraged the Icelander to depart.

This was, sadly, not quite the case since another blonde had just happened to leave the same door about five minutes before Matthew with a sigh, arms thrown behind his head to cushion his skull.

"Ah man, Iggy is such a dick." Alfred bemoaned, his face grimacing in annoyance. "Good day, my name is Arthur jolly chaps, I'm a giant arsehole who likes to knit and tell grown men what to do. Jolly good wot wot." Alfred mocked in a horrible British accent, striking a pose as though he were holding a cane and pretending to adjust a monocle. "Since I'm older than you you should listen to me even though I tried to poison you every time I cooked you food. But don't worry old bean, I've got some jolly fine free health care. Woohooo. Ass." Alfred muttered, annoyed beyond belief at the audacious Englishman who had dared to actually tell Alfred that they should team up. Not asked, told. Alfred scowled at the thought and huffed in anger.

"What are you doing back out here Matthew? Ugh, don't tell me Mathias needs more money." Alfred twisted his head to the side, spotting a white haired man with a red bow hanging in front of his shirt accompanied by a puffin of all things.

"Huh?" Emil sighed and shook his head with a sigh.

"Are you drunk already? Damn that Mathias." Emil groused before grabbing Alfred's arm, dragging him toward a nearby car. "Come on, we should head back. I'll just come back for Mathias later." Emil told the blonde who was staring at him in surprise and suspicion. For one, who the heck was this guy and who was Matthew?

Wait; if Alfred was Matthew then he must look an awful lot like him. And Alfred only knew of one person in this city that looked that much like him. Alfred grinned darkly and let himself be led along by the Icelander, soon finding himself in the passenger side seat of a car and speeding away.

()()()

"So seriously, you and Emil are siblings?" Yong-soo asked with wide eyed interest.

"Yes." Norge responded immediately. The two of them were seated in the living room along with the other Nordic men, each entertaining themselves in their own way which in this case took the form of Yong-soo pestering Norge about familial attachments in the group.

"Huh, you two don't really look alike though." Yong-soo pointed out. Norge rolled his eyes, reaching into a pocket at his side and pulling forth a piece of paper.

"Here." Norge told the Korean, passing the document over to him. Yong-soo gave a curious look at the papers as he took them.

"What's this?" Yong-soo mused as he leafed through the pages, pausing at a specific spot. "A DNA test?"

"Yes, it proves me and Emil are related. Emil had it done after I would not stop introducing him as my little brother." Norge informed Yong-soo stoically.

"Huh, okay then." Yong-soo told Norge as he handed back the paper, Norge taking them and slipping them back into a pocket.

"Indeed." Norge looked up when the sound of someone knocking on the door reached his ears. Cautious, Norge rose to his feet and padded over to the door, glancing through the peephole to spot the intruder. On the other side of the door a bespectacled blonde peered up into the peephole in curiosity.

"It's Matthew." Norge told the other residents of the room before he unlocked the door, letting the blonde in. Alfred stumbled through the door, a hand on his forehead in order to try and sell the drunk story he had adopted to thoroughly smooth over any discrepancy until he managed to find some intelligence.

"Oh man my head is killing me." Alfred proclaimed grandly. "I had to knock on like twelve different doors before I got the right one." The residents of the room glanced at the American curiously before the majority went back to what they were doing aside from Norge who continued to glare at the back of the newcomer. Alfred felt sweat prick the back of his neck at the focused stare and he stiffened in response to the possible threat. Did the Norwegian suspect? Would he make a move? Could Alfred bribe him or would he have to kill him?

"Where is Emil?" Norge eventually asked, breaking the tense silence between them. Alfred felt his shoulders as well as his head sag with relief as he turned to the Norwegian with a weak smile, reasoning he must be asking about the one who gave him the ride.

"Oh him? He went back to pick up Mat…" Alfred trailed off, unable to recall the exact spelling of the name Emil had thrown at him as the Icelander had driven away.

"Mathias." Norge supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, him." Alfred chuckled weakly, now beginning to reconsider his decision here to attempt and infiltrate the enemy camp.

Norge eyed the American for a moment before nodding in acquiescence. "Very well then. By the way we let Yong-soo out of th-." Norge paused when the door slammed open and a very disgruntled Matthew stormed in.

"What the hell guys, leaving me alone at the freaking bar. I had to take a taxi back a-." Matthew paused when he realized the whole room was staring at him in a mix of surprise, amazement and on one specific blonde's face horror.

"Wait." Matthew stated as he caught sight of Alfred. "Who?"

"Grab him." Norge stated in deadly calm as he drew a gun and aimed at Alfred.

"Y's." Berwald answered, rising from his chair like a menacing titan from the earth. Alfred stared up at the glowering visage of the Swede attempting to conjure words that properly expressed the situation he was now faced which he soon accomplished, a helpful prod in the back from the gun wielding Norwegian assisting him remarkably.

"Aw shit."

()()()

Gilbert was by no means what one would term the sharpest of individuals. His personality and tongue were to be sure. However, his perceptiveness was not all that it could be as was illustrated by certain recent events and prior ones such as when he accidentally broke a mirror when he thought it was an intruder. Then of course he just attributed it to Gilbird being so awesome it was rubbing off on him causing him to attack the mirror. An argument which to be perfectly honest would have gone over better if it had not been Ludwig's mirror he broke at the time.

It was not that Gilbert was stupid, quite the contrary. He just needed that extra little push now and then in order to try and figure things out. Today this took the form of him washing his hands after he had relieved himself thoroughly in the bathroom. This hygienic activity was an admittedly rare practice as Gilbert claimed to be too awesome to become sick from something like germs but an initiative he was grateful for taking. For it was when washing his hand the albino happened to glance at his wrist and think what a pain it must be to have a briefcase manacled to it which would probably get in the way often.

Wait.

"Oh god damn it!" Gilbert spat as he whirled around and charged out of the bathroom and into the bar to whip his head around in a panic. Sadly, neither of the bespectacled blondes were in sight causing the Prussian to loudly swear in frustration. Gilbert ran over to the bar where his new drinking buddy was still seated, throwing a beer back happily.

"Hey did you see a blonde guy with glasses went?" Alfred demanded, planting a hand on the Dane's shoulder. Mathias turned his head to the side in order to regard Gilbert with a look of mild befuddlement brought about by the many drinks he had consumed.

"Huh?" Gilbert sighed but repeated himself.

"Blonde, glasses, carries around a briefcase. Ring any bells?" He demanded.

"Oh, you mean Matthew." Gilbert froze, the muscles in his neck tightening at what the other man had just said.

"What?" Gilbert prompted, leaning in close to the blonde. Mathias, in a rare moment of clarity in his drunken haze abruptly realized that this was not the person to speak of such matter and quickly turned away, attempting to rise from his seat.

"I uh, gotta go now." Gilbert grinned evilly showing an impressive amount of teeth before pressing in close to the blonde and pulling his Luger out, pressing the muzzle of the pistol to the Nordic man's back. Mathias stiffened when he realized exactly what was pointed at him while Gilbert's grin merely broadened.

"No, stay awhile. I have some friends nearby who would absolutely love to meet you." Gilbert told him as he directed Mathias over to Arthur's booth, ensuring to hold the gun at an angle so that it was hidden from the rest of the bar between his and Mathias's bodies.

"Aw shit."

**So here it is. I'm actually attempting to move the story along instead of randomly inserting humorous anecdotes in order to prolong the inevitable completion of the story. Curse you writing purgatory and you're state of non-being. At any rate, as usual please read and review and I own only the plot.**


	15. Bartering for Morons

**And here is where we pick up from.**

"_I uh, gotta go now." Gilbert grinned evilly showing an impressive amount of teeth before pressing in close to the blonde and pulling his Luger out, pressing the muzzle of the pistol to the Nordic man's back. Mathias stiffened when he realized exactly what was pointed at him while Gilbert's grin merely broadened._

"_No, stay awhile. I have some friends nearby who would absolutely love to meet you." Gilbert told him as he directed Mathias over to Arthur's booth, ensuring to hold the gun at an angle so that it was hidden from the rest of the bar between his and Mathias's bodies._

"_Aw shit."_

"So… what should we do with him?" Matthew asked the others. He along with Yong-soo, Berwald, Norge and Tino were standing in various locations in the kitchen of the small apartment, Alfred before them and tied securely to a wooden chair with a challenging scowl painting his expression. Following the discovery and summary apprehension of the American it had, apparently, been the standard move to tie the intruder down somehow and depending on one's personal preference either gag them or not, a procedure Berwald was a little disturbingly very eager to take upon himself to do it.

Tino had been keeping a bit of distance since had finished but it was surely merely coincidental…

"He should have valuable information ergo we should try to extract it." Norge uttered on a monotone of stating the obvious. Berwald grunted in agreement and Tino nodded, albeit reluctantly as he was eying the American somewhat tentatively, unsure if the decision was the right one.

"Hah, you wish. I'll never talk, no matter how hard you torture me." Alfred declared confidently, wriggling in his ropy bonds in an attempt to pose heroically for the benefit of the others in the room.

"Maybe we should draw straws to see who has to get it." Tino suggested, ignoring the American's declaration.

"We don't h've straws." Berwald informed the Fin.

"Hey!" Alfred shouted, annoyed at how he was being passed over.

"Rock paper scissors?" Yong-soo suggested.

"We don't have an even number of people and it would be punishing the winner." Matthew told his Korean friend.

"Hey, don't ignore me!"

"Then what do you suggest huh?" Yong-soo challenged, pouting slightly at his idea being shot down so easily by the blonde as if it was a paper airplane caught in flak fire.

"I don't know, musical chairs."

"That's stupid it's obvious I would win after all." Yong-soo scoffed, waving the suggestion off.

"How do you know?" Tino inquired, curious despite himself.

"Because musical chairs originated in Korea!"

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Alfred shouted, banging his feet on the tiled floor furiously in a childish display of frustration. The five men turned to the American in surprise and bewilderment at the juvenile display. There was a moment of silence between everyone as the air grew heavy with the awkwardness of the situation until Norge sighed, breaking the oppressive mood and wandering over to a nearby drawer.

"Fine, I will do it." Norge declared, pulling the drawer open and pulling out a knife that shined maliciously in the light of the kitchen. The Norwegian turned around, revealing the wicked instrument to the others and causing Matthew and Yong-soo to blanch slightly as they realized the intent behind the items appearance.

Alfred cast a challenging glare at the Norwegian, tightening his jaw in preparation of the pain and to not exclaim his plight when the man began his work. Norge noted that idly as he approached the American, the knife slowly turning over in his hand like a spit over a fire when the telltale shrill ring of his cell phone cut through the murderous air.

Norge sighed in irritation and pulled his phone out, turning towards the door of the kitchen and wandering towards it. "I'll be right back, you take over." Norge ordered in a bored voice, tossing the knife to Matthew. The Canadian jumped back letting the blade clang to the floor shrilly before he quickly swept it up and turned to the Norwegians retreating form.

"Hey wait!" Matthew called but the man was already past the door and beyond having to pretend not to hear him. Matthew looked down to the knife in his hand sceptically then back to the tied up American, his face betraying his lack of preparation for such an event to befall him.

"Well, are you gonna cut him?" Yong-soo asked.

"What, no!" Matthew vehemently protested.

"Someone has to do it. Come on, you chicken?" Yong-soo teased.

"Shut up."

"Chicken, buck buck buck." Yong-soo mocked, doing a little dance in the middle of the kitchen floor.

"Do 't." Berwald encouraged from his side of the room.

"Maybe just a little so Norge won't get mad." Tino suggested.

"Buck buck buck."

"Stop it Yong-soo."

"Come on ya pansy, I dare you!"

"Why are you encouraging me?" Matthew demanded of Alfred, whose lips had uttered the previous comment. The American blinked in surprise and leaned back in his seat for a moment, staring at the ceiling contemplatively.

"I… don't know."

"Fantastic." Matthew muttered.

"Buck buck buck buck."

"Shut up!"

()()()

Arthur flipped open the phone he had taken from Matthias, skimming through the contact list idly while the Danish man remained nearby, tied up securely and sitting on the couch in his apartment. A gag was shoved in his mouth on everyone but his insistence. Gilbert and Kiku sat about the apartment, watching the Englishmen expectantly.

"It's ringing." Arthur told them crisply, annoyed by the constant stares.

"Terrific." The Prussian uttered sarcastically. Arthur rolled his eyes but said nothing else, idly waiting for the other end to be picked up. His wait was short lived as soon a click sounded from the phone.

"Hello?" A monotone intoned.

"We have your friend." Arthur said threateningly into the phone, going straight to the point, taking the initiative immediately to throw the other of guard. There was only silence for a moment during which Arthur patiently waited for an answer on the other mans part.

"If you hurt him…" Was the response at length in a slightly tight voice, Arthurs chuckles interrupting the other man before he could finish his doubtlessly dire threat.

"Don't worry old chap, we won't hurt a blonde hair on his head if you follow through on our demands." Arthur somewhat cockily informed Norge over the line. There was another silence as the Norwegian considered this information before he responded.

"Blonde? Who do you have with you Emil or Matthias?" Norge demanded, his voice returning to the monotone from earlier. Arthur raised a titanic brow at the question.

"Matthias." He answered in slight confusion as he glanced to the bound blonde on the couch. Kiku and Gilbert stared at the Englishman as he listened to the phone before he took it away from his ear and cast the two of them a confused look.

"… He hung up." Arthur informed them incredulously.

"Seriously?" Kiku asked in surprise. Arthur did not answer, instead he was vengefully redialling the number he had called earlier, tapping his foot impatiently as the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" Arthur hotly demanded, his face turning slightly red in anger at being so callously cut off.

"Ah, my apologies. I had thought you were calling about something of import." Norge murmured offhandedly into the phone.

"What! What the devil do you mean by that?" Arthur barked ferociously. He could almost imagine the man on the end of the line shrugging at his tirade in disinterest.

"Well, I suppose I should try and get him back then if you're going to throw a fuss. So what do you want?" Norge asked Arthur in a mild monotone. Arthur ground his teeth in anger at the attitude of the other man on his partner's life as well as how he was playing dumb.

"You are well aware of what I want; I want the twit with the briefcase!" Arthur shouted into the phone, Kiku and Gilbert eying him in surprise at the outbursts. Arthur glanced to the two men and flushed slightly though this time in embarrassment, coughing awkwardly into his fist in an attempt to regain his composure. "A-anyway if you provide me with the briefcase then I suppose that I could return Matthias to you." Arthur told Norge, attempting to be nonchalant about the entire affair after his somewhat disastrous initial attempt at conversation.

"Hmm, I suppose we could do that but I have a better idea. You provide us with Matthias and we return your American friend that is currently tied up in our kitchen." Norge stated, his ultimatum making Arthur's eyes widen in shock.

"What!" Arthur shouted yet again, his voice ringing in the apartment and in the Norwegians ear causing the man to wince slightly in pain and pull the phone quickly away from himself, only bringing it back once he was sure the man was done shouting into the receiver.

"Yes, we have your loud and annoying American and, I suppose we would be willing to trade him for Matthias." Norge regretfully informed the other man.

Arthur huffed at the question. "And what makes you think we want him back?" He demanded, glancing at the blonde on his couch as he spoke. Matthias glared at the Englishman, gagged and unable to speak so attempting to convey the sheer amount of malice he felt towards the other man by shooting ocular daggers.

"It stands to reason that you would want your companion back does it not?" Norge asked, pausing and leaning against the apartment wall casually.

"Same goes for you." Arthur retorted, his mood cooling once again.

"Not particularly. I could go either way but it would be bothersome to explain it to the others." Norge explained.

"Indeed." The two men were silent, a mutual understanding that did not require the use of something as base and plebeian as words being imparted between them, for theirs was a fellowship formed by the shared experiences that few truly could appreciate aside from those who had suffered in the same sort of trials and tribulations. Suffrage which matched only some of the most horrid tortures hell could inflict upon them for their tortures were ones forced on them without their consent but they could only bear their crosses.

Theirs was an understanding of two men who had to deal with those who were very, very annoying.

"Very well then, we shall organize a trade. Jungfern Bridge at midnight tonight, we will trade our respective idiots. Goodbye."

"Indeed, farewell." Arthur responded before hanging up his phone, his gaze turning to Matthias. "Well, it would appear that today is your lucky day. We have agreed to trade him for Alfred." Arthur told Matthias, addressing the latter of his statement to Kiku who brightened visibly at the assurance with a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness. I was so worried." Kiku exclaimed, his shoulders slumping slightly in relief.

"We're not out of the woods yet Kiku." Arthur chastised, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "We still need the bloody moron. But I'm confident that we can succeed in this and who knows, maybe the dolt discovered something while there." Arthur cheered, nodding slowly to himself.

Norge stared at the wall contemplatively. He had set the trading point to a relatively well traveled bridge in Berlin and had also given such a time that it would be unlikely that they could set themselves up to trap them. Norge nodded to himself in satisfaction of his decision and wandered towards the kitchen, pausing when he saw that Berwald and Tino stood outside.

Just as he was about to ask what they were doing out there the front door opened and Emil strode I with a slight scowl. "How annoying, Matthias was not at the bar. Probably drunk in a damn ditch." Emil cursed as he wandered into the home. Emil paused when he saw all the people outside the kitchen and raised an eyebrow. "What's… going on?"

"Emil, good to see you back." Norge greeted with a degree of warmth, striding forward with his arms wide before throwing them around the Icelander, hugging him. Emil looked at the Norwegian hugging him in surprise before awkwardly giving a half hug and pat on the back.

"Uh, yeah. Nice to be back. So…" Emil began, lightly nudging Norge until the man stepped away from him. "What exactly is going on?" He asked the assembled Nordics.

"Nothing big, Matthias was kidnapped." Norge uttered, waving it off.

"What!" Emil exclaimed along with Tino.

"Its fine, it's fine. Now then," Norge clapped his hands and cast his gaze over the other men, "what exactly is going on in there?" The Norwegian asked, pointing his closed hands towards the door of the kitchen.

"Torture." Berwald intoned.

"Seriously?" Norge asked in surprise.

"It's awf'l." Berwald uttered with his typical accent. Norge arched an eyebrow and wandered over to the door, his hand clasping the doorknob decisively.

"No!" Tino shouted but it was too late, Norge opening the door before he even registered that he had been spoken to and by the time he had Pandora's Box had already been opened and the horror within unleashed.

"I've got Seoul but I'm not a soldier, I've got Seoul but I'm not a soldier-."

"Oh dear god make it stop" Alfred screamed, jerking his head from side to side in a desperate though fruitless attempt to block out the two off key voices of Yong-soo and Matthew as they sang, arms about each other's shoulders and weaving from side to side merrily. It may have been a bit better should they be singing solo but together it was on practically different ends of the vocal spectrum as well as somewhat off beat from each other making a horrid cacophonous noise.

"…" Very slowly Norge closed the door, backing away slowly once the knob clicked shut. Norge stared at the door for a few minutes, his face blank though his eyes were contemplative.

"… Okay, new plan. When they finish the song we grab them and lock them in the room with the computer. That should occupy them until the trade." There was a murmured assent from the other residents of the room at those words, faces resolute as Tino pressed his ear against the door in preparation of when they would finish their song.

()()()

"Mister Ivan, Mister Ivan! I've done it sir." Eduard exclaimed cheerily to the tall Russian sitting nearby polishing his trademark pipe. Ivan glanced up, his violet eyes alighting on the Estonian with a curious quirk of his brow.

"Oh? And, what exactly have you done Eduard?" Ivan asked mildly, his mouth a somewhat thin line. His mood had not been particularly exemplary after the photo incident and Eduard, as the almost sole though unwitting perpetrator within arm's reach had of course suffered somewhat. However instead of souring Ivan to the idea of yet another of the man's discoveries he felt himself interested. After all, Eduard knew he could only afford so many failures.

"I tracked the images down to the computer it was sent from." Eduard declared, eyes shining even above the bags that hung depressingly beneath them indicative of the effort he had spent searching. Ivan shot to his feet, quickly crossing the room to stand behind the Estonian and stare at the screen of the laptop before him, his violet eyes eager as a child's when offered candy.

"Indeed Eduard, and you know where it is?" Ivan demanded in childlike glee. The Estonian smirked, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Better sir. I managed to hack their computer. We can see everything they are doing on it." Eduard informed his employer. With a last tap of the keys a screen popped up, the image that of another computers screen and by his own admission that of the 'Matthew' and 'Yong-soo's' computer.

Upon that screen was an internet browser, a small black dot moving over a blue background in a maze being the image observed. "What are they doing?" Ivan asked, curious as he watched the small dot weave through the maze and into the finishing spot, the screen changing with the next level.

"Playing a game?" Eduard offered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead at the admission and the possibilities regarding Ivan's reactions that it might entail.

"Nyet, I do not think so Eduard." Ivan intoned, leaning over the Estonians shoulder to peer at the screen. "So simple an activity, they would not disgrace themselves by doing." Eduard raised his eyebrows in curiosity, turning his eyes back to the screen.

"Then… what do you think they are doing sir?" Eduard asked hesitantly.

"It must be a message of some sort." Ivan declared, leaning in some more in an attempt to discern a pattern to the movements. "They must be attempting to inform someone of their motions and keeping it inconspicuous by masking it in a game." Eduard widened his eyes as he leaned in a little closer to the screen, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

"Of course, it's so simple." Eduard whispered.

"Indeed, turn up the volume. The noise the game makes may have some sort of implication." Eduard nodded, cranking the laptops volume up to maximum as both he and Ivan fixed their gaze to the screen, watching fixedly as the dot moved through yet another maze.

The pair of Eastern Europeans were deathly silent, their eyes following the small dot fixedly in absolute concentration as they watched the dot. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the computers fan and the beating of the two men's hearts as they attempted to discern some method to the madness of the motions.

Then an image of a girls face with skin seeming to rot off suddenly flashed on the screen, a piercing shriek filling the room from the speakers of the computer. Eduard screamed in fear, his chair toppling backwards as he shoved himself away from the computer reflexively while Ivan shouted in surprise, shooting straight up and raising his lead pipe above his head. The lead pipe descended on the computer, smashing into the electronic device again and again in a panicked motion from the massive Russian until he ceased at length, panting in exertion from his surprise and attack.

Eduard slowly pushed himself upright off the floor, rising to his feet to stare wide eyed and slack jawed at the mangled remains of his laptop. The room was silent for a moment, the computer sparking slightly in its death throes while the two men stared at it.

"Wh-what was that?" Eduard at length asked, his form quivering in the vestiges of fear. Ivan stood by him, panting for a moment before he shook his head slowly in disbelief.

"I… I cannot believe it Eduard." Ivan answered at length, his companion casting him a look of confusion at the cryptic response from his lips.

"S-sir?" He asked tentatively, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"They knew we were watching Eduard." Ivan hissed, his expression darkening narrowed eyes and furrowed brows though his smile remained. "They knew we were going to start watching even before we managed to hack their computers and so did… that, in warning. They have infiltrated our system Eduard." Ivan hissed, glaring at the destroyed device grimly.

"B-but how could they do that?" Eduard asked, terrified not only that Ivan was in a foul mood but also that someone was capable of performing such a trick on him using a computer, Eduard's speciality.

Ivan shook his head in mystery. "I do not know Eduard but I do know one thing. We must be wary of every shadow in which our foes may lurk, think twice before we pick up a phone in case it may be bugged and above all else, we must not try to restore our connection to that computer. This was a warning and god only knows what those sick bastards could do if we try that again. After all, who knows what people who did… whatever they did to a girl that made her look like that are capable of." Ivan grimly declared in a voice as dour as the grave.

()()()

Matthew lay, panting on the floor of the room, the computer on the desk still graced with the iprofile of the little girl from the exorcist while a pair of headphones that had been on the Canadians head but moments before lay on the floor of the room. The sound of Yong-soo's cackling laughter rang out in the room, the Asian leaning on the computer desk as his mirth required support to keep him upright.

"Yong-soo, you asshole." Matthew cursed his Korean friend. He should have known better than to trust Yong-soo when he told him he had a fun game he wanted to show him.

"Oh dear god, that was classic." The Korean hooted, a finger pointing at the blonde on the floor. "You should have seen your face."

()()()

The Berlin night air was cool and damp thought he latter effect was likely merely a perpetuation of the fact that it was on a bridge that Arthur stood, Matthias behind him and sandwiched between Kiku and Gilbert with his hands bound but otherwise free, or at least soon to be. A slight fog had built up, wrapping around the quartet with a chilling embrace and casting a dour and gloomy mood over everything.

"You sure they're going to show up?" Gilbert asked, idly scratching the bottom of his chin though in nervousness or boredom Arthur could not be certain.

"They'll come." Arthur assured the albino. "I feel it in my bones." Gilbert snorted but lapsed into a silence, a well received if temporary reprieve from the constant noise.

Arthur sighed and tapped his foot impatiently, checking his wristwatch with a slight scowl. The Brit glanced at the opposite side of the bridge and almost started in surprise when the mist shifted in the wind permitting his eyes to alight on five men standing on the other end, the one in the center held between a tall and somewhat shorter man.

After a moment of the two parties studying each other the five man band moved forward and onto the bridge with Alfred securely held and practically dragged between them. Arthur jerked his head in their direction and started forward, Gilbert and Kiku grabbing Matthias and dragging him forward to the bridge.

The two parties eventually halted, but yards away from each other and a stoic looking man walked forward, a cross beret in his hair and beret upon his head. "We have come for our idiot." Norge declared in a monotone of indifference.

"Hey!" Matthias protested but lapsed into a silence when Norge shot him a glare.

"What a coincidence, we came for ours." Arthur responded blandly.

"Ok, ouch." Alfred spat from his position between Yong-soo and Berwald. He was ignored by Arthur however, the Englishman looking towards Norge and no one else.

"Here is how we shall do it, I will bring your man to the center of the bridge and you bring ours. We exchange them there and then we both go our separate ways agreed?" Arthur asked. Of course the truth was that they would simply pick up the pursuit immediately afterwards but for now just getting Alfred back would be enough.

"Agreed." Norge declared without a moment of hesitation. Norge walked back and grabbed Alfred's arm, pulling the American forward.

Matthias meanwhile was grabbed by Arthur and together they walked to the center of the bridge.

There, the two parties faced off, everyone for the first time seeing the faces of their opponents in the game of espionage they had been playing. It was then that Arthur finally got a good look at the one that Alfred had called his doppelganger and Gilbert had declared the carrier of the briefcase and as soon as he and the other blonde locked gazes their jaws fell slack in shock.

"D-dad?" Matthew gaped.

"Willy?" Arthur asked in shocked surprise.

The bridge was silent as both parties eyed the two speakers in awed astonishment. It was an incredible moment where pieces fell into place, a dramatic reunion unfolding before them.

"Oh my god, you're nicknames Willy?" And then Yong-soo ruined it.

**Hah, oh lord I have been waiting to do that for absolute ages. Anyway, shock and surprise this is where things start tying in and for trivia the game Matthew was playing is an actual internet thing. Scared the hell out of a few people I used it on.**

**Anyway, read and review. I appreciate every one that I get.**


	16. Innuendo, or inyourendo?

**Well it has been a while so for old time's sake here is a recap.**

_There, the two parties faced off, everyone for the first time seeing the faces of their opponents in the game of espionage they had been playing. It was then that Arthur finally got a good look at the one that Alfred had called his doppelganger and Gilbert had declared the carrier of the briefcase and as soon as he and the other blonde locked gazes their jaws fell slack in shock._

"_D-dad?" Matthew gaped._

"_Willy?" Arthur asked in shocked surprise._

_The bridge was silent as both parties eyed the two speakers in awed astonishment. It was an incredible moment where pieces fell into place, a dramatic reunion unfolding before them._

"_Oh my god, you're nicknames Willy?" And then Yong-soo ruined it._

"Ahahahahaha!"

"Oh my god. Dad! What the hell! You're a secret agent!"

"Now Willy, let's calm down there lad."

"This explains so much! I mean, in retrospect it was so obvious."

"Ahahahahaha, Willy! Ahahaha."

"The way you were always away, the weird cars you loved, all the James Bond memorabilia, the fact that all your girlfriends had those names that were sex puns like Alicia Missionary,"

"Now Willy that's hardly fair it's a perfectly respectable last name. Wait, how did you even know her name? I never introduced you."

"Well it became kind of obvious when you were screaming hers in the middle of the kitchen. It thought someone had broken in but instead I find… that! I ate off that table! Bleach cannot scour those memories!"

"Really Arthur? Missionary? I thought you were into that kinkier stuff."

"Shut yer trap Alfred!"

"Ahahahahaha."

"You want kinky, you should see what west has under his bed."

"And how the pen you let me borrow shot the kid whose cast I was trying to sign."

"I told you not to touch my things."

"It was a pen! That you handed to me! Do you have any idea what I had to do to make up for that? I had to let Yong-soo have one hundred free shots at any time for the rest of my life! He used those to the absolute maximum potential god damn it!"

"Like the time you were making out with your girlfriend and I smacked you in the back of the head making you head-butt her. She was so pissed, it was freaking hysterical!"

"Shut up Yong-soo!" Matthew spat, rounding on the Asian who merely guffawed some more, holding his sides in rib aching hysterics.

"Really Willy. Hanging about such a loose woman as that? I thought I raised you better." Arthur berated. He soon realised this was the wrong thing to say immediately afterwards, his son rounding on the poor Englishman at once with a murderous expression.

"Okay one, do you really think you are allowed to talk considering what you and that Brazilian woman were doing in the living room when I was five?" Arthur felt his face flush somewhat sharply at that memory. "And two, I am still incredibly pissed at you so now is not a good time to criticize me." Arthur rubbed the back of his head nervously. _Well Arthur old bean, this is a royal cock_ _up_, he though ruefully to himself.

"Willy, I know this is rather hard. Believe me I didn't want you finding out like this either but, well; since you did is there anything I can do about it, really?" Matthew glared at the other blonde for a long moment. He said nothing until his breathing evened out, at which point the Canadian straightened, adjusting his glasses causing the light of a street lamp to flash off of them, obscuring his violet eyes for a moment. After a few moments of silent thought Matthew slowly smiled, Arthur gulping at the sight of the fiendishly evil grin. It was not unlike the look of he had seen on a demon drawn in one of his spell books.

"All right dad, there is something that should satisfy me for now." Matthew informed his father in a deliberately casual manner. Yong-soo grinned gleefully and expectantly, he for once not on the receiving end of the Canadians occasionally fiendish plots of revenge.

"Wh-what did you have in mind Willy?" Arthur asked, mentally berating himself sharply for the stutter. This was his son for God's sake. He had been in situations where death stared him right in the face, dealt with Alfred for years consistently, and changed the Canadians bloody nappies! There was no reason to be nervous.

"I want to go out to ask you about your job, and you have to answer." Arthur blinked for a moment in surprise, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well that doesn't seem so bad." The Englishman declared in relief. Matthew only grinned darkly, like a cat toying with a mouse.

"And, I want you to do it at a French restaurant. The one you were always going on about in the emails you sent me when you were in Berlin." A dead silent fell on the bridge at Arthur's horrified expression, his massive eyebrows having flown up his forehead and his jaw slacked at the fiendishly evil demand. No one with any sense of mood or atmosphere spoke, even the water seeming to still at that proclamation, the thick atmosphere descending on the occupants of the bridge heavily like a fog.

"Oh snap!" But Alfred couldn't read the atmosphere to save his life. Thus a second potentially really dramatic moment was ruined that night.

"Shut yer trap Alfred!" Arthur barked automatically, a kneejerk reaction but it worked all the same to dispel the air of palpable menace that had built itself.

"Is that a yes?" Matthew asked with deceptive pleasantness. Arthur sighed and turned back to his son with a scowl of displeasure at the request.

"I'll have to call the bast- er, restaurant and see if there's any openings." Arthur ventured. Matthew nodded silently in acceptance, his courage to demand something like that and accompanied rage for his father draining like a cracked glass now that the mood was lost.

Arthur sighed and pulled out his cellphone, turning away from the groups and dialling the oh se dreaded numbers. Putting the receiver he counted the rings fixedly as he waited for the man on the other end to pick up.

_Please don't answer, please don't answer, please don't answer…_

"Bonjour, La Belle Rose. Francis speaking."

_Bugger._

"Hello Francis." There was a slight squeal on the other end of the phone following his proclamation, prompting the Englishman to wince in displeasure.

"What is this? Surely the irritable Englishman avec the giant eyebrows has not called moi?" Was the thickly French accented question from the other line. Arthur sputtered slightly at that, his face heating up and flushing in rage.

"What was that about my eyebrows you bloody frog!" Arthur bellowed into the phone. A light laugh sounding like 'honhonhon' was the only reply. "I have you know the women adore them." Arthur blustered into the line.

"I'm sure."

"Why you little-." Arthur cut himself off when someone lightly coughed behind him. Glancing back the Englishman felt his face flush in embarrassment instead, both groups on the bridge looking about awkwardly for the most part at the ensuing conversation. Through supreme force of will, and some very interesting facial expressions, Arthur managed to curb his temper without having to dash his phone against the stones of the bridge.

After several more deep breaths Arthur spoke once more. "Listen, do you have any tables open right now?" Arthur asked in the most politely angry voice he could manage.

"Mon dieu Arthur, I thought we were far past the rule of dinner before-."

"It's not for you!" Arthur barked savagely, cutting off Francis before he could go into details. The blonde scowled darkly at the theatrical gasp of horror and betrayal sounding through his phone.

"Oh how you wound me. But I suppose that I may be able to manage, whose name should I tell them to write in the appointment book if I might ask?" Francis asked with a teasing tone. Arthur was about to say his own when he paused. If MI6 got wind of him going out for dinner with someone else, to the business Francis owned no less there would be no end of very awkward questions… again.

Arthur glanced back to the group on the bridge in the hopes of inspiration striking. Most were mingling, sort of considering who they were. Alfred had immediately moved towards Matthew and began the standard and torturous Alfred questionnaire involving questions such as: are you my clone? You have weird eyes? Do you think you could stand in for me at a wedding? And so on. Matthew to his credit had patiently answered, feeling it polite and owed as Yong-soo was asking his own inane questions to an exasperated Kiku, until Alfred asked something that actually drew Arthur's attention.

"So, wait. If you're Iggy's son why isn't your last name Kirkland?" Alfred asked curiously.

"Dad always introduced me by my middle name. He never liked me using his last name though I guess I kinda know why now." The Canadian answered with a helpless shrug.

Arthur smiled slightly into the receiver. Yes, he could avoid the awkward questions of MI6 and potentially piss off Francis in one fell swoop. "Put the reservation under the name Matthew Williams and Arthur Kirkland."

()()()

Eduard drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the car nervously. An all too common state these days but tonight it was for a far different reason than usual. Eduard nervously glanced back to the source of his current (and general) terror, Ivan Braginsky. Yet, the man was not acting how Eduard was used to, and that terrified Eduard even though what had constituted as normal had been Ivan being dangerous, threatening, or just plain scary. Yet at the moment the tall Russian was currently sitting in the back of the car Eduard was driving, violet eyes staring out the window with what could only be described as a look of melancholy.

A welcome change right? Ivan was no longer looming over Eduard, smiling childishly and lightly tapping a faucet pipe in his large hands in silent threat after all.

Wrong!

The Ivan Eduard had known had been constant. He had known what to expect from the terrifying figure yet now… now he didn't know what the man might do. And from an individual like Ivan Braginsky, that was something that could prove an even larger detriment to his health than normally.

Gathering his, admittedly sparse, courage Eduard glanced to the large Russian in the back seat fearfully. "M-mister Ivan?" Eduard tentatively began. The Russian merely sighed sadly, Eduard taking this as a cue to continue. "Um, we've been driving around for a-awhile. D-do you have anywhere in mind you wanted to actually go?" The Estonian inquired fearfully, flinching as those purple eyes slowly moved to train on him listlessly.

"… Somewhere I can get something to eat I suppose." Ivan vaguely instructed. Eduard nodded eagerly, turning back to the street and anxiously searching for something resembling a restaurant. At length the Estonian finally spotted something and pulled the car up, hurrying to the rear of the car and opening the door. Slowly and ponderously Ivan pushed himself out of the car, lumbering towards the door as Eduard tossed the keys to a valet and hurrying after his employer.

Eduard looked about the restaurant in awe once he entered. Bright lights illuminated the room filled with the tinkling of silverware on plates as the customers ate, pristine white tablecloths covering the tables and a small vase filled with roses sitting upon each daintily. Expensive looking artwork covered the red painted walls like a second wallpaper, waiters bustling about tables busily, Eduard gawking at a few before the maître d' coughed to gain their attention. Eduard scurried to the posh looking gentleman behind a podium and large open book, Ivan following slowly and carelessly after.

"Hello and welcome to La Belle Rose. Can I help you gentlemen?" The man asked, his tux and hooked nose giving both men the impression of a penguin.

"Wh-why are all the women waiters dressed like French maids?' Eduard asked curiously, starting slightly at his own boldness. But to be fair it was rather surprising.

"What do you mean French maids? They are dressed as any maid should." The man behind the podium informed Eduard. The Estonian looked back at one of the maids, whose skirt rode high enough to edge dangerously on immodesty indeed making the Estonian blush slightly.

"B-but their skirts are rather, um, short." Eduard whispered.

"Owners instructions. Now, can I help you?" The head waiter reiterated with a disdainful look, though if it was uncertain if it was for his employer or the pair before him.

"Ah yes mister," Eduard peered at the nametag on the suit, "Pierre. We were wondering if you might have a table available?" Eduard asked quickly. The head waiter looked down his nose at the Estonian critically, a twitch of a lip edging on a sneer.

"Do you have a reservation?" He somewhat snidely asked. Eduard quickly shook his head no. "I am sorry but we have no open tables in that case." The man informed them, his voice clearly implying he was not sorry in the least. Eduard paled somewhat as Ivan stepped up behind him, the maître d' jumping slightly at the tall man's presence becoming prominent.

"C-can you check?" Eduard quickly asked. The man behind the podium glanced at Ivan once more before nodding and hurrying into the dining room. Eduard bit his lip slightly as he looked up at his employer, shifting slightly in nervousness as he stalled for time. Eventually he gave in to curiosity and drew attention to himself once more.

"M-mister Ivan? Wh-what's wrong?" Eduard asked hesitantly. Ivan looked at the Estonian and Eduard flinched, not sure what to expect. At length the Russian merely sighed and shrugged.

"Oh you know Eduard. Ever since that computer incident earlier I have come to realize we are truly hopelessly outclassed. This, Matthew and Yong-soo, have skills that I have never seen before. Frankly, I have become somewhat… distressed." Ivan murmured as he toddled up to the podium the maître d' had used, idly perusing its pages as if inspiration could strike him from the random list of names.

Eduard nodded in understanding of what Ivan had been telling him. He understood implicitly of course, his own hacking and computer skilled easily outpaced by these men so he could well appreciate Ivan's difficulties. "I understand sir. It is very gack!" Eduard gasped as Ivan suddenly grabbed his collar and yanked the Estonian over to where he was standing, shoving Eduard's face into the pages violently.

"S-sir?" Eduard gasped in surprise.

"Read!" Ivan gleefully exclaimed. Confused, Eduard turned his gaze to the scrawled names on the book. It took him moments to arrive at the section Ivan had, and when he did he immediately understood Ivan's excitement. Eduard's eyes widened in awe as he read the name Matthew Williams and Arthur Kirkland scrawled in the book in sharp angular handwriting.

"Sir! This-hurgh." Eduard was cut off as he was yanked back again by the imposing Russian.

"Precisely Eduard. My new foe is meeting with Arthur Kirkland, the accursed British agent. Mister Williams must be in the midst of trying to sell the briefcase. We have the jump on him for once, and I intend to take full advantage of it." Ivan gleefully exclaimed, eyes flashing in that familiar malicious light Eduard knew so well.

"Wonderful sir." The Estonian croaked, gasping once Ivan finally released his collar. "But, how?" Ivan grinned childishly at the remark as if it was ridiculously simple. With a building dark aura he reached into a pocket of his titanic jacket.

"Please Eduard, we are men of like minds this Matthew and I. When I explain the opportunity of working with me he will leap for the chance no doubt. And even, god forbid, he resist me than I have this." Ivan cheered, pulling out a small vial of purple liquid. "Poison, and I have the only antidote in the car. I will ask him to join Mother Russia and, if he refuses, then I will not give him the antidote. It won't kill him, I have no intent of having his partner after me, but it should incapacitate him long enough for us to recover the case and escape back to Russia and sanctuary." Ivan laughed lowly, the 'kolkolkol' sound chilling the air with its evil intent.

Eduard stared at the vial in awe as Ivan handed it over, cradling it carefully in his hands. The computer expert looked up at his employer with a troubled expression, a thought occurring. "But sir, how will we manage to separate him from Kirkland?" Eduard asked hesitantly. Ivan paused, looking at the wall blankly in thought.

"I'm sorry sirs but we have no available tables." The maître d' informed the pair of eastern Europeans caustically, arriving at his podium once more. Slowly, Ivan turned to regard the man with a childish but undeniably menacing smile, Eduard with one of detached interest as he understood his employer's idea wordlessly. The waiter felt sweat bead his brow as the Russians oppressive aura seemed to surround him, caging him like an animal about to be skinned.

He knew he shouldn't have come in to work today.

()()()

Arthur stared at his son seated across the table. Or, would have if the moment Matthew had sat down he had not grabbed a menu and used it as a wall of silence, too nervous to attempt speaking to his father after the demands he had made. Drumming his fingers impatiently on the white cloth on the table Arthur stared at the blonde across from him intensely, Matthew shivering slightly behind his menu and ducking further behind it.

"Matthew, I thought you wanted to talk?" Arthur asked at last, initiating conversation.

"Of course. I'm just… trying to figure out what to eat first is all." Arthur frowned at that and reached across the table, grabbing a corner of the menu tightly.

"Then stop hiding behind the bloody menu." The Englishman spat as he tried to wrestle the item from the others hands.

Matthew, tightening his grip on the rather fine red leathery cover with gold filigree, pulled back sharply with a resounding f quiet. "No."

"Give it here!" Arthur ordered, growing exasperated and more than a little cross.

"I'm reading." Matthew protested with a squeak, though his grip did not falter.

The ensuing tug of war turned more than a few heads, Matthews's vehement denial to hand his menu over and Arthur's rapid fire series of English profanities garnering a fair amount of attention from the other customers. This went on for some time until an outside force finally intervened, though if for anyone's benefit no one was sure.

Arthur had just bent the menu to see Matthew's expression of red faced embarrassment and, in the process of pointedly averting his eyes from Arthur the Canadian looked up, blonde eyebrows flying upward in surprise. Arthur paused, the menu ripping slightly in his grip and was about to ask what the matter was when he discovered it himself, two arms encircling his neck and pulling him into a choking hug against a broad chest. This had the consequence of the menu ripping the rest of the way but no one at the table was paying much attention to it at that point.

"Bonjour Arthur! How lovely it is to see you once more. But mon dieu, to think you are already in the midst of a lovers spat." Arthur, face growing hot at both the situation and being well aware of what generally came after being hugged by Francis, shoved his way out of the other man embrace. The British man whipped his head around, scowling fiercely when he spotted the small stubble, wavy blonde hair and cocksure grin of his nemesis.

"Bugger off Francis." Arthur spat sharply. The tall man merely laughed off the other blondes banter as he caught sight of Matthew, who was staring at them both in honest confusion and bewilderment. Francis looked the Canadian up and down appraisingly, smiling lewdly causing the bespectacled blonde to lean back a little in obvious discomfort, pink painting his cheeks.

"So, this is your newest conquest hmm?" Francis mused, examining Matthew critically. The Canadian, for his part, hunched over slightly in discomfort at the focused look in an attempt to make himself smaller and disappear. Francis smiled broadly at that making Matthew feel even less at ease.

"I must say Arthur he is rather cute. You have excellent taste with that hair and those fetching little glasses of his. Tell me Mathieu, are you a top or bottom?" Francis asked in genuine curiosity. Two pairs of blonde eyebrows (though one was much larger than the other) shot straight up at those words.

"I-I'm s-sorry what?" Matthew squeaked in surprise. Francis squealed slightly at the rosy hue invading the Canadians cheeks and timid question.

"Arthur he is adorable! Tell me, is you relationship an open one?" Francis eagerly asked Arthur. Said Englishmen, whose face could have been beet red through either rage or embarrassment at that point, snarled at the Frenchman. Grabbing Francis's collar and dragging him down until they were eye level the Englishman snarled at the other blonde.

"He's my son you bloody frog!" Arthur bellowed into the face of his nemesis.

Francis blinked as he processed that, then smiled mischievously and glancing at the Canadian. "So, I take that as a yes then?"

Arthur growled like a feral animal and reached for the knife upon his napkin. "Don't make me castrate you." The large browed Englishman threatened darkly.

"Mon ami, that is a butter knife." Francis pointed out in amusement

"Persistence is key." Arthur answered immediately, baring his teeth.

Francis paled and gulped slightly at that warning. Untangling his collar from the spy's grip he coughed awkwardly and took a cautionary step back. Once a safe no stabbing distance away he pulled forth a small pencil and booklet from his pocket. "Ahem, well then. Moving along do either of you know what you are going to be dining on tonight? Might I suggest La Canard? I make it myself you know." Matthew looked down at his menu, or, what remained of it after his and Arthur's tug of war. Sheepishly gathering up the two halves of the ripped item he passed them to Francis with a shy smile.

"S-sounds tres bien. I'll have that." Matthew quietly responded. Francis beamed at the smaller blonde and his use of French before Arthur jabbed the man with his menu.

"I'll have whatever you touched the least." The Brit muttered with a dark look. With a scowl and childish sticking out of his tongue in retort Francis grabbed the menu and trotted off towards the kitchen, head held high until he disappeared from sight behind the double doors.

Arthur sighed in relief, cradling his head between his hands. He had dreaded coming here for just such reasons as that debacle he had been forced to participate in. He hoped Matthew was happy. But a glance at the Canadian proved the blonde was more than a little uncomfortable with the prior events.

Arthur sighed and clasped his hands on the table before him, deciding to get back to the subject of the night. "Now then lad, I understand there's a fair bit you're having quite the bother sorting out about all of this. But Willy, I honestly meant well by not telling you." Arthur calmly began, though the tapping of the Englishman's index fingers together betrayed his own nervousness.

Matthew shifted slightly at that. "How?" He asked softly, staring at his lap as if to look at Arthur would destroy the illusion of what the man would say.

Arthur smiled and opened his mouth to reply. "I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid your car is being towed." Matthew looked up, brow crinkled in confusion before spotting a tall slim green eyed man with square framed glasses standing by the table, he evidently the one who had spoken. Arthur glared at the man, noting that he was wearing the same outfit as the maître d' who had greeted them at the door, though it looked a little baggy on this individual. Must have been a shift change Arthur reasoned before sighing in resignation and rising to his feet.

"Bloody hell. Sorry Willy but I have to take care of this. I'll be right back poppet." He assured the other blonde who merely waved him off with a defeated and slight smile to show he understood. Arthur nodded thankfully and moved toward the entrance of the restaurant.

Followed by the suited man they turned a corner leading towards the entrance. It was as the pair of green eyed men passed the employee washroom that Eduard, who had been masquerading as the maître d', grabbed the Englishman. Before Arthur could respond the Estonian shoving a cloth filled with chloroform into the Brits face, dragging him into the room before anyone noticed the scuffle.

What Eduard had not known was that Arthur had still been holding the butter knife from earlier. A surprisingly effective weapon as the Englishman slammed it into Eduard's leg. Biting his lower lip to avoid crying out in pain, the Estonian failed however to keep his grip on the British man and Arthur stumbled away. Realizing his error and fighting through the pain, he had a rather high threshold as a consequence of working for Ivan, Eduard grabbed for the Englishman, and hands missing until he managed to grab Arthur by the waist of the Englishman's pants.

It was then that Francis's perverse nature reared its head. The belt buckle the Frenchman had innocuously loosened when Arthur had grabbed him by the collar coming undone at the sudden tugging, sending both surprised men crashing to the ground.

Eduard recovered first and, straddling the Englishman's back with a grunt of effort Eduard grabbed Arthur by the chin and pulled his head back fiercely. The Estonian then used his other hand holding the rag of chloroform to shove the cloth back into the Brit's face.

After nearly a full minute of holding it in place Arthur's struggles gradually lessened until he stopped moving altogether. Panting at the exertion Eduard gingerly pulled the cloth away from the man's nose, just in case Arthur was faking. The blonde sighed in relief when Arthur did not move, just in time for the tell-tale creak of the bathroom door opening to reach his ears.

Eduard looked over in shock to see a man standing there, staring at the Estonian currently straddling another man whose pants had been pulled down to his ankles. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, the sound of the restaurant drifting from the dining room before the newcomer very slowly retreated, closing the door quietly behind him.

Eduard flushed in embarrassment once left alone once more and, spurred on by the recent encounter quickly shoved the unconscious and half naked Englishman into the only stall to be found, closing the blue painted door before quickly exiting the washroom. Eduard leaned against the entrance of the bathroom, sighing in relief it had gone as well as it had.

With a wince the man recalled the weapon in his leg. Gingerly he pulled the butter knife from his leg, fortunately having been a mostly glancing blow. After administering some quick first aid in the form of a band aid and dab of alcohol he kept on hand Eduard froze in horror when a thought occurred. Scrambling through his pockets he retrieved the vial of poison and sighed in relief, the container undamaged after the scuffle.

Steadying himself, Eduard quickly moved toward the kitchen to carry out the second half of Ivan's plan. Pushing through the double doors he paused as the sounds of clanking pots and the scent of spices and cooked food assailed him. Green eyes glanced about the kitchen, passing over the white clothed chefs until he spotted one who seemed to be in charge judging by the larger of hats. Eduard quickly advanced on the blonde until he was right beside the chef.

"Excuse me, could you tell me who is preparing the food for table 12?" Eduard politely inquired. The chef turned, bright flirtatious eyes looking into Eduard's green as a playful smile lit Francis's lips.

"That would be moi. Why? Is there a problem?" The French chef asked the Estonian lightly. Eduard shook his head quickly to assure the other man.

"No, no. Actually, my good friend was hoping that he could have this added to the one called Matthew's food." Eduard informed Francis, pulling forth the vial in example. The cook eyed the vial suspiciously before looking up and meeting Eduard's once more.

"Oh? If I am not mistaken monsieur Williams is dining with someone else tonight whom, I am well aware of, would not make such a request." Francis challenged somewhat icily. Eduard felt sweat bead his brow. Dammit, he hated having to think on his feet, he usually just ran away when things became dangerous. But, this time if he ran away that would make the situation dangerous after the fact.

The Estonian scrambled for a convincing lie as Francis continued eying him cynically. "Oh Kirkland, uh, left. Yeah! Mister Williams um, asked mister Kirkland to leave because my f-friend is meeting Matthew for, a, uh..."

"A what?" Francis asked pointedly.

"A date!" Eduard blurted out, clapping a hand over his mouth seconds after. Francis raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued at the possible romantic situation.

"A date?"

"Y-yeah! He asked m-mister Kirkland to leave b-because he d-didn't want him to know about it." Eduard eagerly elaborated just as quickly as his imagination was willing to cooperate. Francis felt his lips widen slowly until they formed a tremendous grin. It stood to reason, Arthur being so uptight he would probably do anything to prevent his son from pursuing a relationship, as he had earlier when Francis admitted interest.

"I see. And what is that exactly?" Francis asked, pointing at the vial. Eduard looked to the poison and gulped audibly.

"Th-this is to m-make sure the… night ends very well…" Eduard fumbled weakly. Francis's eyes opened wide before lidding as his perverse imagination began thinking of the various ways to interpret that statement.

"Of course, I would be happy to add it to darling little Mathieu's food! He is young and though I am saddened I shall not be the one to teach him l'amour I shall not stand in the way of another." Francis assured Eduard, snatching the vial from his hands.

"Thank you very much." Eduard gratefully uttered, backing away from the Frenchman as quickly as he could. "I'm sure my… friend will appreciate this."

"I will make sure of it." Francis replied, waving as the Estonian departed. Francis turned back to the meal he had been about to prepare before the interruption, grinning widely in thought. If Arthur was gone this may be the Canadians only chance at love, and it would be up to he, Francis, the king of love to assure its success. At once, the Frenchman swept the ingredients he had gathered for the planned meal off the table.

This required a change in the menu, Francis thought with a devilish smirk.

()()()

Ivan paced the door outside of the coat room nervously, not even dwelling on the fact the maître d' he and Eduard had mugged for his uniform was currently unconscious inside and in his underclothes. No, his worries involved the prospective meeting soon forthcoming. He had decided in the end that he dared not risk being seen by Arthur before Eduard dealt with him lest the spy complicate his encounter with Matthew. Still, Ivan could not help but feel a touch nervous. This was a man who had countered and bested him at every turn, and Ivan merely knew him by a mask and false name.

Ivan shivered in excitement. He couldn't wait.

Finally Eduard pocked his head around the corner, giving the tall Russian a thumb up. Grinning in childish glee, Ivan immediately moved away from the coat room and towards the fated table, not even looking at Eduard as he passed the man by. Like a shadow Ivan weaved his way between the tables of the restaurant, a dark menacing aura following him and causing most who glanced his way to quickly avert their eyes in fear. Soon enough Ivan arrived at table twelve, where he would face his greatest opponent at last.

But no one was there.

Ivan lost some of his smile then, disappointment rearing as he stared at the empty table before him. Shoulder drooping slightly the massive Russian slouched over to one of the table's chairs, plopping into it with a dissatisfied sigh. He had hoped for some dramatic reveal, yet he supposed he would have to wait. The Russian shifted a little in pleased surprise, the seat proving actually rather comfortable even through his massive beige jacket. Ivan sighed and leaned back a little comfortably. He supposed he could wait.

"E-excuse me." Ivan shot up in his seat, looking about suspiciously. Where had that voice come from?

"Excuse me. Y-you're, um, s-sitting on me." Ivan's eyes widened in horror, it couldn't be! The Russian shot up and out of his seat as if it burned him. Whipping around he locked eyes with the blonde in the chair he had been in but seconds before, the man adjusting his glasses which had been knocked askew.

Dear god, he was better than Ivan had thought!

Matthew, for his part, shifted a little nervously under the Russians intense gaze. "C-can I help you?" He asked when it became apparent the large man seemed to be rooted to the spot.

Ivan snapped from his thoughts and grinned childishly, reasoning that since the other man hadn't killed him when Ivan sat on him it must have merely been a demonstration of his abilities. "Da, I think you can." The tall Russian informed the Canadian sliding into the opposite seat (after checking to make sure no one was there). "This is the first time we have met face to face but I have become quite the fan of yours… Matthew."

"I-I'm sorry?" Matthew tentatively ventured, startled and not sure how to react at strange intimidating man knowing his name.

Ivan chuckled. "I knew it was you from those photos my acquaintance gathered for me. You did a marvellous job editing them by the way, too good perhaps." Ivan informed the Canadian with a confident grin. Matthew scowled, hands clenching into fists beneath the table. Yong-soo… he told that Korean bastard no more posting pictures on the internet dammit!

Ivan grinned. It would seem Matthew thought the fake photos had fooled him. That gave him a slight amount of headway. Matthew coughed to clear his throat at the revelation he had evidently been found by one of his 'fans'.

"I'm really sorry about that but my friend tends to post pictures like that so, if you could just forget about those…" Ivan nodded in understanding. Good, Matthew wanted to start off fresh. That would work wonderfully as Ivan planned to recruit the other spy. This friend Matthew spoke of must have been the elusive Yong-soo, so he called his partners his friends then? Most interesting…

"Of course of course. You see, I want to be your 'friend' as well. In fact, I want to be more than a friend." Ivan eagerly proclaimed. Matthew leaned back in his chair slightly at that, fixing the purple eyed man across from him with an odd look.

_Is he… is he coming on to me_? Matthew shook his depreciatively at that thought with a slight if nervous chuckle. Of course not, he must be misunderstanding something.

Ivan noticed the shaking of the head and leaned forward anxiously. "I am quite serious I assure you. I want you to come with me." Ivan informed the blonde with dead seriousness.

_Ho-ly crap he was!_

"Now I realize this may seem sudden. But I assure you I'm not simply going to bend you over the barrel and stick it to you, pulling out once I'm finished and leaving you hanging and 'shooting the breeze' as it were. This is supposed to be a relationship for mutual benefits." Matthew, at this time, immediately began searching for an escape route. He thought that Francis had been bad but this guy was being even more forward! The Canadian was about to try and slip out of his chair with the age old bathroom excuse on his lips when a waiter rolled a trolley up to their table, a single dish covered in a silver dome upon his cart.

"Dinner," The man began, moving the dish onto the table grandly, "is served." With that the waiter yanked the lid off the dish theatrically. Both violet eyed men started at the sight, slowly leaning over the table slightly to stare at the dish in complete confusion and horror, though each for different reasons.

Matthew, because 'dinner' turned out to be a chocolate cake made to look like a heart with a picture of a naked man drawn with whipped cream on the top.

Ivan, because he realized there was only one dish for the both of them ergo his food was also filled with poison.

But, in the end both had the same final thought. _Who in the sweet holy hell is responsible for this!_

()()()

Francis stood in the employee bathroom, jaw slack in pleased surprise, but surprise nonetheless. Before him, leaning against the toilet limply in unconsciousness was Arthur Kirkland, pants about his ankles leaving only a pair of underpants emblazoned proudly with the Union Jack covering his nether regions, the red streaks concentrating like a target for Francis. Silently, the Frenchman turned his eyes skyward to the blue painted ceiling with teary eyed joy.

"Merci beaucoup." He thanked the heavens before squatting down and grabbing Arthur's pants. After some eager tugging he managed to pull loose the pair of trousers, holding them before him triumphantly like the victor of a hunt. The Frenchman then turned his eyes to the nearly half naked Englishman, Francis's fingers tightening in the rough fabric of the pants in his hands as he panted heavily in lust. The blonde leered at the man below him excitedly, who groaned as sleep began to flee him and shifted slightly. This of course only served to excite Francis and he loomed over the unconscious man predatorily.

"Uncle Francis!" A girl, long brown hair beneath a maid's cap and tied in a pair of pigtails with red ribbons shoved her way into the bathroom, a pair of earrings depicting a pair of blue fish swaying as she entered the restroom. "Come quick, Pierre was found in the coat closet in his underpants and…" The girls dark skin lit up slightly as Francis stared back at her, a strange pair of pants in hand and crouching over a half-naked man on the bathroom floor. "Oh Uncle Francis, not again." The girl sighed in exasperation, closing the door behind her as an afterthought.

Francis smiled awkwardly and glanced down to a still mostly unconscious Arthur. "Ah, mon petit Sey. This is not what you think I assure you." Francis explained with a nervous look about him.

Sey placed her hands on her hips, tapping a foot in exasperation. "Uncle Francis you know we can't afford more sexual harassment lawsuits." She berated the Frenchman in frustration, scowling and glaring.

"Non non, you misunderstand mon petit. I was merely… borrowing this man's pants for… Pierre! Yes, so that he would have something to wear to get back home and find some clothes. I was going to give them right back to this gentleman as soon as Pierre returned, honest." Francis assured his niece. Sey raised a small eyebrow critically and stared at her uncle for a long moment, Francis smiling innocently back as best he could. Eventually the woman sighed and shook her head in defeat.

"Whatever. Come on then." The brunette tiredly proclaimed, waving the Frenchman towards the door with a challenging look. With an expression reminiscent of a chastised puppy caught chewing on a pair of shoes Francis trudged out of the bathroom sadly with pants in hand, Sey following afterwards.

Alone again, it only took another few minutes for Arthur's eyelids to flutter open, rubbing his head at the fierce ache pervading it. Blinking to clear the fog in his eyes the Englishman sat up, looking around the bathroom in bewildered confusion.

"What the, where the devil…" The British man trailed off when he felt a slight chill on his legs. Looking down his brow crinkled in confusion as he stared at a pair of bare legs leading from his shoes to his underpants.

"… Where the bloody hell are my pants?"

()()()

Canadian and Russian stared at the cake, both panicking but for different reasons. Matthew was on the verge of hyperventilating as this had not been what he had ordered. The only reason for the change he could think of was that Francis served them something like this to try and get the bespectacled Canadian in the sack with Ivan. Now Matthew liked to think himself open minded, but this was all going way faster than he was comfortable with.

Ivan meanwhile was travelling along a similar train of thought, though he was on a completely different set of tracks. Matthew, he reasoned, must have somehow anticipated that Ivan would try to poison him. Yet, rather than simply circumventing the attempt he had gone another route, that of forcing Ivan to eat the poison as well if he wanted to poison the Canadian thereby showing that he knew that Ivan was trying to poison him. The naked man made of whipped cream likely symbolized human mortality and the sheer decadence represented temptation. Brilliantly humanist and intellectual and exactly what Ivan should have expected!

Ivan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, chuckling slightly before locking eyes with the Canadian. "Matthew, I understand exactly what you are trying to say with this cake." The violet eyed man informed his counterpart.

"E-eh?" Matthew asked in bafflement.

"You truly understand me to think so far ahead as this. So please, I ask once more not as strangers but from one man to another. Won't you become one with Russia?' Ivan asked, spreading his arms wide and invitingly. Matthew stared at the Russian, face pale as a corpse at the 'invitation'. Recovering quickly, the blonde pushed out his chair and rose unsteadily to his feet.

"I-I'm very sorry b-but I'm going to have t-to say no. T-to be sure I'm flattered, maybe even a little curious. But I-I'm not really interested in having th-that kind of relationship r-right now. G-goodbye." Matthew quickly if politely answered the Russian, bowing his head slightly in apology before dropping a few bills on the table to pay for the meal. Then, as quickly as he could, the blonde backed away from the table, breaking into a dead run as soon as he was out of sight to escape.

Ivan watched the Canadian go, sighing sadly. Leaning an elbow on the table he cupped his face in a hand and stared at the red wallpaper across from him blankly. "Well, he said he wasn't interested right now…" Ivan mused, idly picking up a fork and slicing off a bit of the cake. It was an unfortunate habit of his but, when sad, he tended to eat. Sticking the cake in his mouth he chewed slowly, musing on how very rich the chocolate was and slightly cheered at the slight hope offered by the blonde's parting words. Swallowing Ivan cut off another piece, idly noting Eduard's approach.

"He… refused sir?" The Estonian tentatively asked. Ivan sighed and nodded, putting the piece of cake into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Yes, temptation was indeed delicious.

And poisonous.

Ivan's eyes shot wide open in horror and he swallowed compulsively as he recalled exactly what the special ingredient of the cake was, gagging immediately.

It made an odd sight to be sure, a massive man wearing a scarf and beige coat dashing like a drunk elephant through the restaurant and towards the bathroom with a hand clasped over his mouth, a shorter slimmer man with glasses running alongside shouting things like "Please sir just don't swallow anymore!" Suffice to say the health inspectors showed up earlier than expected that month.

On the other side of the building, far away from Ivan hunched over a trashcan inducing vomiting like a madman, Matthew exhaled slowly once he reached the outside of the restaurant, scratching his head thoughtfully. What a strange evening. Wandering over to the side of the building he thought back on the night and couldn't help but wonder where his father had wandered off to. Moving towards the parking lot he spotted his sire on the other side of their car, busying himself with the lock. With a sigh of relief the Canadian approached the older man with a wave.

"Hey dad." Matthew called out in an exhausted tone. Arthur looked up from the vehicle, jaw dropping in surprise.

"Willy!" Arthur called out, as Matthew approached. "Thank god you're safe lad." Arthur declared in relief. Matthew smiled tiredly as he rounded the car, freezing like water in the arctic winter when he spotted what state his father was in.

"Dad! Where are your pants?" Matthew exclaimed. Arthur grabbed his son's collar and dragged the Canadians face to eye level, desperate emerald boring into shocked violet.

"I. Don't. Know." Arthur sobbed, burying his face in his son's chest. Taken aback, Matthew glanced around nervously and tentatively if gently patted his father reassuringly on the top of his head.

A fair amount of strange things had taken place since he had a briefcase manacled to his wrist, but that evening certainly took the cake.

()()()

Ludwig Beilschmidt sighed as he finished unloading his luggage from the back of his car onto the sidewalk outside his home. He always enjoyed vacationing in Italy but, had to say, it was nice to come home once more where things were more familiar. People obeyed traffic lights, ate things other than pasta, and did not have a damn siesta every day at noon. Sharp blue eyes turned from his nondescript luggage and gazed up at the building in which his home was situated within, the blonde smiling slightly as he ran a hand through his slicked back blonde hair. God how he missed Germany.

Though, he thought with a slight frown as the sound of someone falling out of the passenger side door of his car sounded across the empty night street, he maybe shouldn't have brought a piece of Italy back with him.

"Ve! Ludwig I fell down." The German man sighed and turned to the small brown haired man, wearing a yellow and brown striped shirt and currently sobbing in the middle of the sidewalk next to Ludwig's car. Shaking his head ruefully the German wandered over and grabbed the smaller man, hefting him to his feet with a slight scowl. For the life of him, he would never know why he let Feliciano come home with him. He supposed it was akin to why people took in stray kittens. Kittens that always looked half asleep, ran away at the slightest provocation and carried pasta with them all the time.

"Thank you Ludwig!" The Italian chirped happily, wrapping his arms around Ludwig in a tight hug. Said blonde sighed and extracted Feliciano with practiced ease.

"Yes, quite. Now Feliciano if you could just stand over there while I unload the bags." Ludwig asked the smaller man, pointing at the street corner. Feliciano looked to the indicated place in thought then back to Ludwig with a childish frown of displeasure.

"But Ludwi~g, I wanna help." The brunette whined.

"No, you might break something." The blonde sharply admonished. Ludwig grimaced slightly at the kicked puppy look the Italian suddenly adopted at those words, eyes opening fully like shades being drawn back to reveal big brown emotional eyes boring into the Germans own plaintively.

"B-but Doitsu! I wanna help. I can help, I know I can." Feliciano whined persistently. Sharp blues glanced away irritably, but he could feel those watery eyes pleading for a task, to prove himself useful. Ludwig sighed in defeat at the puppy dog eyes, reaching into a pocket and pulling forth a set of keys reluctantly.

"Fine, fine. Go and unlock my door, I'll be along in a minute with my bags. And don't touch anything." The tall German ordered crisply.

Feliciano positively beamed and grabbed the keys happily. "Ve! Yes sir!" The Italian declared as seriously as he could, overshadowed sadly by his then skipping up to the door with a cheery smile and entering the building. Making his way gaily down the hall with a spring in his step and smile as bright as the sun, the small Italian man finally arrived at the door to Ludwig's apartment.

"Ve, let me see…" Feliciano though aloud, looking at the several keys on the chain given to him in concentration. At length the Italian shrugged, choosing one that looked right he pushed it into the keyhole, only for the door to shift slightly open at the slight nudge. Curious, the Italian lightly pushed on the door, watching in rapt interest which soon changed to horror as the door opened all the way revealing what could be considered a war zone.

Jaw slack in awe, the Italian gingerly stepped into the apartment, turning about as he assessed how tremendous and all-pervading the destruction to the home truly was. So enwrapped in his horror, the Italian did not even register the owner of the room's approach.

"Well Feliciano I- Oh god dammit Feliciano! You weren't even alone for a full minute!" Ludwig bellowed furiously, dropping his bags to gesture at his destroyed home furiously.

"Ve!"

**Well, it's certainly been awhile. First off, I would like to explain my absence for about three months though it's rather weak I'm afraid. Simply put, I became somewhat bored of this story and worked more avidly on side projects. But, primarily it was because with the last chapter I had more or less reached the end of my creative juice for this story, arriving at the scene where Canada finds out England is his dad I essentially said "all right now that I'm done that… um… uh oh." Essentially, I hadn't planned out any further and became stuck. I hope this chapter makes up for it somewhat and don't worry, I have every intention on finishing this story eventually.**

**Anyway, here is France's premier, with Seychelles as Sey. I hope I had their characters right, France proving oddly difficult to portray. **

**But I have to say I was incredibly surprised by the response of the last chapter. I mean my god; I was overwhelmed and am afraid I dropped the ball in terms of responding to my reviewers. By the time I that I decided to (I normally don't) it was too late and, as a sort of apology I will respond here and now to the reviews for chapter fifteen.**

**.X7: Here it is, hope it was worth the wait. XIII-Jinx-XIII: I know, personally I'm surprised no one thought of it first. L. Lamperouge: Glad you liked it. I really love writing those scenes and am glad you enjoyed reading them as well. blurry19: Glad to hear it. DreamerLoverHaterKillerMolder: I try and your kind words make me think I succeeded at least partially. Anily AKW-DPP: Thank you very much, I'll try to keep it worthy of being compared to Prussia's awesomeness. -MoonxStar-: Can't say I do so I hope you aren't dead quite yet. Risa-sama: Thank you so very much. I'm very pleased to hear you say it's novel quality, it's very kind. Failing Wings: I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. ANIME1FTW: Glad you liked it. Interesting that you thought it would be Yao and Yong-soo so I'm glad I made it vague enough to lead you astray until the big reveal. OrangeJuice101: I know, he's fun to write. NoIsY-LaUgH: I'm glad you find it funny as well. I really like writing how wrong Russia is all the time, it's fun to mess with him. Aimystery: Thank you so much for the fanart. I can't tell you how much it means to an author to have someone draw something from a story they write and I really appreciate it. Quicksilverette: It slowed down for me but it's back! GreyMoth: Thank you for saying so. I'm glad you think it's getting better, I hope this one doesn't disappoint. Kaya Yurushi: Well, I didn't leave it forever if that means something. Italiangurlinamessedupworld: I loved that line too, glad you liked it. Shizukoyasu: Hope this answered some of you questions, and sorry it's just one this time around. iTorchic: Here it is, hope you like it. RandomGeek: I always mix those up, thank you for pointing that out. maple lover: Well we can't have that, it's not over yet. Maya-chan2007: Thank you for your kind praise. The computer game scene just popped into my head and I liked it enough to throw it in. Stella Solaris: I hope this one was worth the wait as well. Wraightsky: Glad it surprised you. I alluded to it very subtly throughout and am glad it was still a surprise.**

**Few, that was a fair number of people, but I appreciate every one. Thank you all for your continued support and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did. As usual, please read and review, I promise to try and respond more promptly to your reviews this time.**


	17. Cut the Deck, New Game

**And now for a final look back at how we arrived at this point.**

"_Ve, let me see…" Feliciano though aloud, looking at the several keys on the chain given to him in concentration. At length the Italian shrugged, choosing one that looked right he pushed it into the keyhole, only for the door to shift slightly open at the slight nudge. Curious, the Italian lightly pushed on the door, watching in rapt interest which soon changed to horror as the door opened all the way revealing what could be considered a war zone._

_Jaw slack in awe, the Italian gingerly stepped into the apartment, turning about as he assessed how tremendous and all-pervading the destruction to the home truly was. So enwrapped in his horror, the Italian did not even register the owner of the room's approach._

"_Well Feliciano I- Oh god dammit Feliciano! You weren't even alone for a full minute!" Ludwig bellowed furiously, dropping his bags to gesture at his destroyed home furiously._

"_Ve!"_

Gilbert did not have people over often. Neither friends, lovers nor others were generally admitted to his apartment. Friends, of whom there were only two which he would even consider admitting to his home, a French fellow by the name of Francis and a Spanish fellow going by Antonio, never came over of their own volition. Francis saying he would hate to intrude, and Antonio adding that he thought it was because Gilbert's apartment was a mess. As for women, Gilbert tended to try and make sure they never knew where he lived, relationships with them after the first night of torrid passion often going… badly.

In his defence, beer makes them look thinner.

Still, with his company at the moment, Gilbert had begun to regret breaking his rule.

"Boom! Headshots originated in Korea!" Yong-soo crowed over the crack of a bullet which echoed from the massive speakers of the television.

"God damn hacks!" Gilberts snarled, watching as the green armoured man collapsed on the ground limply, the screen panning out to show him the death. "Fuckin' Halo." The albino snapped, raising his arm to fling the controller at the tv and punish it for its failure to reflect his awesome playing.

A dull knocking from the door saved the device. At once Alfred, Norge, Tino and Berwald turned their heads towards the source of the sound, hands sliding to pockets where actual guns were located. Gilbert twisted his head around with a scowl, reluctantly putting the controller down. Rising from the couch he stomped over to the door, peering through the peephole. "Who the-, oh." Gilbert grabbed the doorknob and turned it, admitting the practically steaming with fury green eyed Briton on the other side. "Yo Arthur, how ya doin'."

"How the bleeding hell do you think I'm doing!" Arthur bellowed, his voice echoing through the apartment. "I had no damn idea where the hell you lot went. I go back to the bridge and find nothing, check my phone and surprise, no messages! I drove around town for nearly an hour looking for you all. I thought Ivan had gotten you and was just waiting for the ransom message. Then I think to myself, if I were as daft as Gilbert, where the bloody hell would I go with a group of potentially dangerous people. Oh of course, he must have gone home!"

So I come here, no idea what I'm going to find since no one thought, hey, maybe we should tell that English bloke we're all gettin' along fine now and he doesn't need to worry. But no, not one of you bloomin' gits thought a that."

So, let's hear it. Do you morons have anything to say for yourselves?" Arthur demanded, ending his rant with a pair of green eyes glaring into Gilbert's uncomfortable reds. A tense silence erupted in the room, no one sure what the right answer, if there even was one, would be.

So, someone gave the wrong one.

"Hey." Yong-soo exclaimed from the couch, garnering everyone's attention. "Where're your pants."

Arthur growled low, his hand going for his pocket and gun hidden within.

"Dad," Matthew uttered in a warning tone, standing behind the sandy haired blonde.

Arthur growled and withdrew his hand from his pocket. "Fine Willy," He grumbled.

"Pfft, Willy."

"Yong-soo."

"Matthew?"

"No."

"Aw."

Matthew sighed, closing the door behind him. This, this was his freaking life now.

The Canadian wandered over to the couch, falling into the seat beside Yong-soo, who had resumed playing the game. The Canadian sighed, relaxing fractionally and settling back into the couch.

"Hey Mattie, why's your dad in his boxers?" Yong-soo asked, turning from the screen to look at his friend with almost innocent curiosity.

Matthew shrugged. "I have no idea," He admitted in a defeated tone, shoulders slumping heavily. "He said he didn't want to talk about it."

"Rough." The Koran patted his Canadian friend on the shoulder, grinning comfortingly. "How about we go ahead and beat some random kid at Halo? Think that'll cheer you up?" Yong-soo asked.

Matthew smiled slightly, picking up Gilbert's discarded controller. "I think it might. It'll be a nice change to have someone not trying to kill me," The Canadian said. Both he and Yong-soo shared a laugh at that, feelings of tension melting away like ice beneath the sun's rays.

At which point the door was suddenly kicked open with a resounding crack. "I'm going to f#$%# kill you!" A tall man with piercing blue eyes and slicked back blonde hair screamed.

"Oh come on!" Matthew cried as Tino tackled him and Yong-soo to the floor behind the couch. While Tino had done that everyone else were preparing for a more confrontational approach, pulling out guns and pointing them at each other threateningly.

Ludwig started at the sight, a pistol in his hand with the speed a magician would envy. "Gilbert, are you in trouble with the mob again?" The tall German asked brusquely, his own handgun pointed at the tall Swedish man with eyes of an even more piercing blue than his, who in turn did likewise.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Kiku asked as respectfully as he could while pointing a gun at someone(which was , oddly enough, very).

"I'm his brother," Ludwig retorted, jerking his head at Gilbert.

"The Germans are launching a sneak attack Kiku!" Alfred proclaimed, turning to Kiku.

"Ugh," The Japanese man grunted, nudging the American's arm and gun away from his face.

"Hey, don't point a gun at West!" Gilbert barked, pulling out his luger and pointing it at Alfred.

"The hero can point a gun at whoever he wants to!"

"Will everyone just calm the bloody hell down!" Arthur barked, glaring from over his pistol at everyone in the room. Though a silence did come to pass, the tension sadly did not. Arthur's green eyes scanned the groups, the Englishman slowly exhaling to try and remain level-headed. "Right, now everyone just remain calm, and no one shoot-."

"Shoot?"

"Shoot!"

"Shooting!"

"Bleedin' twats!" Arthur shrieked as he dove behind a corner, a bullet chipping a piece of the wall inches from where he had stood as everyone opened fire on each other. Like the starting pistol had been fired instead of just a regular old gun men were suddenly diving behind cover, filling the air with the chatter of gunfire and puffs of fluff every time a stray round caught the couch.

From the tv the words, "Team Death Match!" echoed out before a bullet slammed into it, silencing it for good. Its glass shards fell harmlessly to the ground with a clatter before Yong-soo, Matthew, and Tino who were all currently cowering on the floor between the couch and television.

"Oh my god people are shooting at us! We're going to die!" Yong-soo shouted over the rattle of bullets.

"I don't wanna die!" Matthew sobbed.

"Matthew, if we don't make it out of this, I want you to know something," Yong-soo screamed, his eyes meeting his friends.

"Yong-soo?"

"I always thought I was the pretty one,"

"…If we survive, I'm going to punch you. Hard."

"What?"

"I'm going to punch you!"

"What?"

"Punching, you, later!"

"I can't hear you, people are shooting at us." Yong-soo covered his head with his arms as a bullet pinged of the floor near him. "We'll talk later!" He shouted, a hand making the call me gesture. Matthew didn't know if it was some sort of coping mechanism, or if the Korean could genuinely be this annoying even when life and limb were at risk. Either way, he spent the remainder of the firefight supressing his urge to strangle his friend, which proved a disturbingly effective coping mechanism in its own right.

It took some time but, finally, the gunfire began to peter out. The last stray rounds snapped through the air and with their end, a tense calm broke out, the puffs of cushioning from the couch descending throughout the room placidly like snow falling on a winter day.

"Is-is it over?" Matthew asked. As if summoned by his words what appeared to be a Matthias's battleaxe slammed into the wall near the television, the blade's head digging into the plaster and embedding the weapon there.

"Now it is," Tino replied. The Finnish man slowly rose; peeking over the couch to make sure no one was waiting for that exact opportunity to begin firing anew. When the various other men in the room began to peek out as well, he pulled Matthew and Yong-soo to their feet.

"Yer all daft, I hope you know." Arthur groused, stepping out from behind a wall riddled with bullet holes.

"Hey no fair, you said shoot first!" Afred protested, poking his head around a corner.

"I said do not! Not, not, not!" Arthur bellowed, stomping his foot furiously on the floor to punctuate his point.

"Well then you should have been clearer." Matthias chimed in. Norge promptly grabbed the other Nordic man's tie and pulled it like a noose, Matthias making some strangled noises as he tried to breathe.

"So, anyway, West. Why are you here?" Gilbert asked, currently leaning on the island in his kitchen, the thin layer of plaster now coating everything seemingly completely un-fazing him.

Ludwig was shocked back to the present and whirled on his brother, jamming a finger into Gilbert's chest. "You! I'm here for you! I know it was you who trashed my home, East! No one else is an ass enough to do it! So, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Gilbert blinked in shock. Oh damn, right, he did that. He hadn't quite thought that through at the time or after it, like many things he did. The self-styled Prussian nervously glanced around for an inspiring excuse. It was only then that he realized it was all around him. The albino's lips curled in an unpleasant smile. "I'd say, now we're even," The Prussian said with a smug grin.

Ludwig blinked, and then looked around to the destroyed apartment. There was barely a square inch to be had without a break from bullet holes, or a chip from a ricochet. Furniture had been ravaged beyond repair, dishes that had filled the sink had been shattered, and even appliances had not been spared a bullets vindictive rampage. In fact, the only thing still standing was a bird cage with a small yellow chick inside.

"B-but I…you…" Ludwig began to bluster.

"Tell ya what West. Since you're my brother, let's just say that now we're even and end it there. Whaddya say? Brothers?" Gilbert asked, slinging an arm over the blonde's shoulder. Ludwig made some choking and gurgling in response. "I'll take that as a yes," Gilbert said with a cocky grin.

"Ve, is it safe to come in yet Ludwig?" Feliciano asked, his brown head and hair curl poking around the side of the open door nervously.

"Wait, did you say Ludwig?" Matthew suddenly asked, perking up. Feliciano squealed and ducked back behind the wall at the sudden motion.

"Yeah, he's Ludwig, my brother," Gilbert said in a matter of fact tone, rolling his eyes and pointing at the German in his grasp.

"Oh, my, god. Quick, do you know what this is?" Yong-soo demanded, jerking Matthew's arm up, the accursed case and cause of so many woes ever gripped in Matthew's fear induced clammy hand.

Ludwig's blue eyes refocused at once, narrowing at the briefcase fixedly. "Where… How do you have that?" The German demanded.

Matthew and Yong-soo didn't answer at first. They simply stared at the German for a long moment, mouths agape in awe that their saviour stood directly before them, as of delivered by God in a hail of lead. Someone could have started shooting again and neither would have noticed in the least. And they were not the only ones. Reactions ranged from Norge's eerie unblinking stare, Berwald's ever disturbing riveted gaze, all the way to Arthur's unseeing eyes and twitching somewhat manic smile.

Ludwig shifted uncomfortably beneath their stares. "What?" He asked, more than a little uncomfortably.

"Can… can you get this off my arm?" Matthew asked, eyes shining with hope as he held the briefcase aloft.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow questioningly but nodded. "Yes… Do you want me to?" He asked, somewhat perplexed.

"God yes!" Matthew fairly screamed (so, normal speaking voice for everyone else). The Canadian vaulted the couch, Yong-soo following suit as only he can, and charged the German. Matthew screeched to a halt in front of Ludwig, holding the source of his woes before him desperately like a poor man begging for alms.

Ludwig blinked in surprise at the speed to which they arrived. "Yes, yes. Give me a second here…" The German murmured, picking up a part of the cable.

"Thank you so much. I didn't think I could take much more of this. It's just been so much all at once with the chases, and the kidnappings, and the retailoring of clothes, and the knife wielding psycho following me around," Matthew said with a heavy sigh, bowing his head slightly and eyes closing in relief.

"I see. It can be difficult to remove," Ludwig said, gripping two opposing pieces of the cord and bunching them together forming a tight loop. The German reached into a small sheath on his side, drawing a knife. "You do need a sharp knife," He said nonchalantly as he put the blade against the loop.

Matthew's eyes snapped open with horror as the German pressed the blade against the cord.

Screams of, "Nooooo!" clawed from ten different throats as all realized just what the hell was about to happen. Ludwig looked up in surprise at the sudden verbal onslaught, but not before the cable gained two new ends, courtesy of his knife.

"… What?" Ludwig asked, baffled at everyone's horrified look.

Yong-soo and Matthew looked at the case in the Canadians hand.

"Oh god we're going to die… again!" Yong-soo shouted, clasping his head between his hands.

"!" Matthew shouted in a panic.

"No! I wanted to die in battle, drunk off my ass!" Matthias screeched. Norge smacked the Dane on the back of the head, seemingly completely nonplused by his own looming death.

"Dammit West! What the hell man!"

"What's the problem?" Ludwig asked, obviously confused.

"This, this right here, this is a bomb you twat!" Arthur snapped, holding up the briefcase and by extension Matthew's arm.

The German raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a frown. "This is not a funny joke. That's not a bomb," He stated resolutely, lips downturned in a scowl.

There was a sharp silence, everyone staring at the German again. His words had weight added when they realized that no, they weren't dead yet and that the briefcase showed no overt signs of killing them. Ludwig looked about, noting everyone's (except Norge and Berwald's) shocked looks.

"It's… it's not?" Tino asked tentatively, as if afraid just by speaking he was tempting fate.

"Of course it's not a bomb. I should know, I gave the case to Feliks in the first place. Why do you think I know how to open it?" Ludwig asked in exasperation.

"… So, wait, that means that, I could have cut the cord at any time? And there would have been no repercussions, at all?" Matthew asked slowly.

"That's right, yes."

Matthew stood stock still for a second. Within his mind, he could fairly see Feliks, the cross-dressing blonde Pole smiling cheerily, and handcuffing Matthew to the briefcase and telling him in that airheaded valley girl accent it was also a bomb.

"…That son oF A "

()()()

Feliks straightened in his seat. He looked out the plane's window, watching as the clouds rolled by like a herd of sheep off to greener pastures. The Pole narrowed his eyes slightly and looked around, rising slightly out of the ill padded confines of his business class seat to gaze at some of the other occupants of the plane. No one was paying him the slightest bit of attention, engrossed in their own activities, whatever they may be. With a huff Feliks plopped back down on his seat, crossing his arms with a concerned expression.

"Feliks? What's wrong?" Toris asked from the seat next to him, ever concerned.

"I don't know. I just felt a chill like, crawl up my spine and junk. Like, someone was trying to kill me, but with their mind, you know?" Feliks vaguely explained, slumping in his seat.

"Um, no. Not really," Toris replied.

Feliks sighed and leaned back in his seat with a slight chuckle. "Yeah, must have been my imagination. I mean, who would want to kill me that badly?" With a much more obvious laugh he waved at a stewardess, trying to gain her attention.

()()()

"!" Matthew finished, panting at the effort of condensing all his rage towards the man who had started the whole sadistic journey into a mere five words.

Alfred looked around awkwardly, rocking on his heels. "So… Does that mean we can take the case?" He asked, pointing to the beaten metal item in question.

"You wait just a damn minute, he's giving it to me!" Arthur protested.

"Hey what about us? Our homes got destroyed!" Gilbert protested, pulling Ludwig close to signify they were in this together. Though, judging by the look on the German's face, this feeling was most assuredly not mutual.

"Everyone calm down. Let's be orderly about this," Tino said, drawing attention to himself. "Now, it seems to me that a lot more people want the briefcase than before. So, I think it's only fair that, well, those two decide who gets it," The Fin finished, pointing at Matthew and Yong-soo. Both Korean and Canadian stared at Tino, momentarily taken aback.

"…Eh?"

"We accept da-zee!" Yong-soo declared grandly.

"Eh!"

"If you give it to me, I'll say you're both awesome. Not as awesome as me of course, but still," Gilbert declared imperiously.

"H-hey! No fair! I paid you to help me get the damn thing you cocker!" Arthur snapped at the Prussian.

"Awesomness knows no loyalty! If I have it, I can just resell it," Gilbert answered smugly.

"Screw that! I need it!"

"Yong-soo, I don't think we should auction it off…" Matthew mentioned quietly.

The Korean looked at his friend, lower lip protruding in a pout. "Aw, but Mattie, why not?" Yong-soo whined as melodramatically as physically possible (and his ability in Korean acting made it very much so).

"Well, I mean, it was supposed to go to Alfred. So, we should give it to him, probably," The Canadian leaned in. "And avoid having the CIA come after us," He whispered.

Yong-soo scowled, pouting even more visibly than before, though he did not make an immediate come back, the stress of the situation likely fading. Or perhaps both he and Matthew were both in shock at the moment; it was becoming hard to tell. Then his lips curled back up in a smile, eyes sparkling in a way that had Matthew and the Scandinavian five instantly on edge.

"Okay Mattie, but with a few conditions," The Korean crowed.

Matthew blanched somewhat, but swallowed and nodded all the same. "Okay… but please keep them reasonable."

"Can do. Now then," The Korean turned to the American and Japanese man, who straightened somewhat beneath his scrutiny. They did not like that look in his eye.

"Okay, shoot," Alfred challenged brashly, Kiku looking to him in horror.

"Very well. First off, I don't want either me or Matthew to be on any government hit list. Also, pay those guys," The Korean said, pointing at their bodyguards from Moscow and Kiev.

"I can do that," Alfred replied confidently.

"And there's only other thing. I want, to claim his breasts in the name of Korea da-zee!" Yong-soo sang, his finger thrusting forth to indicate the other Asian in the room.

"Agreed!" Alfred declared firmly.

"W-what!" Kiku demanded, shocked beyond belief. "A-Alfred-san, there is no way I can do such an in-indecent thing!" He protested.

"You gotta do it man."

"I don't want to!" Kiku protested as adamantly as he could while still being polite, though his manners were quickly being worn away by being essentially used as some perverted bargaining chip.

"Kiku this is a very delicate operation. Now stop being such a baby and be groped by the crazy Korean."

"With all due respect Alfred-san, are you mad? No! You do it," Kiku challenged, his face red and his normally stoic countenance flustered.

"Ew, no. His chest is probably all hairy and coarse," Yong-soo complained, shuddering at the thought.

"Hey, what do you mean by that? Am I not good enough for you?" Alfred demanded, rounding on Yong-soo. "I have you know this is an all American chest! Look at it!" Alfred declared, yanking at the front of his shirt. With a pop several of his buttons were ripped off or open revealing his nearly hairless chest.

Which was apparently still not good enough for Yong-soo, who made a thoroughly disgusted noise at the sight. Alfred growled in anger. "Hey, don't look down on me! My chest is every bit as gropable as Kiku's. Here," the American began, grabbing Matthew's hand and putting it to his nude chest. "Now, feel that and tell me it's not amazing!"

"I need an adult," Matthew squeaked, his face heating up and turning a lovely hue of beet red.

"Hey!" Arthur snapped, grabbing Alfred's arm and forcing it to release its captive Canadian. "Stop molesting my Willy you wanker!"

"Pfft," Gilbert snickered, covering his mouth and turning away slightly.

"If you don't let me claim your breasts, I'll write a book about this whole thing. Then, when it gets popular it will be a movie, and everyone will know how you didn't let me touch them!" Yong-soo challenged the reluctant Japanese man.

Kiku stared at the Korean in horror, not even noticing that Alfred and Arthur were now in the middle of an argument filled with British profanities and nonsensical counters. If this got out, the mission would be compromised. Kiku could be fired or worse, put on a different team than Alfred! That would be awful!

"Come on Arthur, let him grope me!"

"No you wanker!"

Yes…Awful…

Kiku sighed. "I… I understand… Then, just a little bit."

"Yay!" Yong-soo exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air like he just didn't care. The Korean slid behind his Japanese counterpart, arms wrapping around the somewhat shorter man. Kiku sighed, then gasped as the two hands slid beneath his shirt.

"Wait…! Uwaaaaa!" Kiku screamed, face flushing a deep crimson as the other man's hands slid over his skin, fingers sending shivers down his spine. Yong-soo smiled broadly, his own cheeks gaining a rosy hue as he used his magic fingers on the Japanese man's flesh to tweak, pull, and rub anything he felt like. Everyone stared at the scene with what would best be described as various and ranged reactions.

"Uwaaa! Stop…! Y…" Kiku gasped as the Korean pulled his arms out of the Japanese man's shirt.

"Uri nara mansaeee!" Yong-soo shouted, in fairly delirious delight, happy as he pranced away in slow motion, soon rounding a bullet riddled corner and disappearing from sight.

"…The hell just happened?" Matthias asked in bewilderment.

"We won a briefcase!" Alfred replied, pulling the case out of Matthew's hand. The Canadian was jolted back to reality at the motion and at first tightened his grip. Then he recalled that he didn't have to anymore, promptly letting go.

"Here's the key, then…" Ludwig said, looking away awkwardly and handing Kiku the key.

"Thank you," The Japanese man, face still somewhat flushed, said.

"Yes!" Alfred bellowed, legs spread apart while he held the briefcase aloft like some holy relic. "We won Kiku! Victory for truth, justice and the American freakin' way!" The blonde shouted giddily. Alfred slammed the briefcase down onto a nearby coffee table victoriously. Kiku held out the key, his partner snatching it greedily and fitting it into the lock.

"Finally. After travelling half a continent, braving untold dangers, and hitting my head on a train while hanging from a helicopter,"

"I knew it!" Yong-soo chimed, poking his head back around a corner.

"And, above all else," Alfred continued as if the Korean had not spoken, "Getting punched by a giant Swede," Alfred turned the key and flung open the briefcase. "We can finally say we have the… Boxers?"

"Boxers?" Nearly everyone asked. Alfred stared into the briefcase, perplexed. Wordlessly, he reached inside and held up a pink, not to mention somewhat frilly piece of men's undergarments. Everyone was silent at that revelation, not quite sure how to respond.

"Is… Is there anything else in there?" Tino eventually if tentatively asked.

"Yep. There's a pink skirt too," Alfred replied, reaching in and pulling out the second garment, holding it up for all to view. "And…that's it."

"Wait. So, there's no list? No computer files? No USB stick even?" Arthur demanded.

"Nope, just what looks like someone's laundry. Huh, makes this whole trip seem sort of pointless doesn't it? You know, now that I think about it, it makes sense. I mean, using this as a distraction. I was wondering why Felik's didn't seem too worried some random guy had the briefcase. Makes sense now. Ah well, no harm done huh?" Alfred asked, laughing with a carefree smile and rubbing the back of his head self-depreciatively.

Matthew on the other hand had an, understandably, rather different reaction to the news that not only he could have rid himself of the briefcase from the beginning, but doing so would have had no adverse effect. His reaction consisted of making a gurgling sound in the back of his throat, eyes rolling back while pointing at the briefcase that had caused him no end of torment, and then falling forward, unconscious onto the floor with a dull thud.

"Uh oh." Yong-soo mentioned, nudging Matthew with his foot. "Uhhh, I think we broke him."

**Bet you didn't see that coming huh? Regardless, there you have it. The End. Well, aside from an epilogue I will be writing in the coming days so look forward to that, should be done fairly quickly. This chapter was painful to write, mainly as everyone was in essentially one room with only one scene change. Kind of got a little dull after a while of just writing people's reactions but I powered through and am happy with it, and hope you are too.**

**In regards to my abysmal updating. I know it was rather tragic, leaving you all on cliff hangers while I disappeared for months on end without warning. In the spirit of that, and also because I have actually been writing for other fandoms in the interim getting tons of practice in, my next story will, in fact, be typed out completely first, then uploaded. I found it just comes out infinitely better that way. However, I will probably start up another one shot story or maybe a short novella length fic, to make sure you all don't think I died again.**

**Anyway, I'd like to personally thank all for you, the readers and particularly the reviewers, for still reading this despite my horrid update schedule. There were some rocky parts, but I think I'm honestly a better writer for your input and confidence boosting. There are many stories on this site, so thank you for reading mine. Looking back, I can honestly say many of these chapters could use a lot of work, and if I ever upload this onto something like Deviantart I'll definitely fine tune it for better quality.**

**But above all else, thank you all so much for your support in making my first full length story successful. You have all been great with keeping me motivated to ensure I continued to practice my literary skills. Thank you all, please leave a review and I'll hopefully see you all in the epilogue. **

()(Aside)()

The elderly blonde man glared at the ceiling, the rattling sound of gunfire from the floor above and people thumping around the source of his ire. No surprise that this wasn't exactly a new occurrence from living underneath Gilbert, but this was just too much.

"Hey!" The wrinkly creature barked ineffectually from his easy chair. "Quit makin' that damn racket!" He wheezed, prodding at the ceiling with a broom handle. "Damn kids and their vidya games," He grumbled.


	18. Epilogue

"Ah mon cher," Francis cooed breathlessly. "Once more we are in each other's arms. I know, it was a close call for a time. And though we had to separate for necessities sake, I knew you would come back to me, our love was just too strong to be separated. Ah, my dear… Come, let me smell you."

"Uncle, was that Pierre at the door? What did- oh for god's sake. Uncle, get rid of those pants!" Sey snapped, glaring at the Frenchman currently holding Arthur's pants.

"Never!" Francis wailed, clinging to the garments as he bounded away like a rabbit.

"Uncllllllle!" Sey shouted in frustration, immediately giving chase.

()()()

Eduard disliked hospitals. The smell, reminiscent of bleach hanging in the air, the unnerving silence only interrupted by pained coughing or other symbols of human suffering, even the sterile look to everything had an unnatural and artificial feel to it. And this was coming from the many that essentially lived with computers! Still, now that we know why Eduard hated hospitals it must be said that the reason he was there was, naturally, not entirely compulsive, but rather compelled.

The individual who had done so was currently lying on the bed before the Estonian. Ivan, eyes closed and breathing softly, lay beneath a thin white hospital sheet in repose. He almost looked peaceful, like a bear in the throes of hibernation.

These scene of peace and tranquility promptly shattered as Raivis threw the door to the hospital room open, wood banging against the plaster of the wall sharply. Through a combination of the raucous crack of the door and Raivis's shrill cry of, "Eduard!" Ivan found himself rising sharply to sit ramrod straight like an undead monster brought to life, purple eyes blinking as they tried to sort through that realm between reality and sleep he still partially inhabited.

Ivan's eyes darted to Raivis, their menacing look fading slightly when he noticed who it was. "Ah, Raivis. Good to see you again. Is something wrong? You're shaking again," The Russian asked with a slight frown.

"M-mister Ivan! Y-you're strangling Eduard!"

"Hm?" Ivan glanced to his left, noting in surprise that he was indeed, a single arm thrust out with fingers enwrapping the Estonians throat tightly.

"Oh, so I am. I do that sometimes. Sorry Eduard," Ivan said airily as he released his hold. Eduard fell back into his chair, sucking in greedy gulps of air.

"I…I'm okay. Just… Just give me a second," Ivan acknowledged Eduard's request with an incline of his head, waiting patiently for his minion to recover. At length the bespectacled blonde stopped wheezing, though his hand remained upon his chest to try and calm his beating heart. With a final deep breath Eduard looked up to meet his assailant/employers faintly smiling face.

"Better?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Then, perhaps you could explain to me, Eduard, where I am and why I'm wearing a hospital gown? Though I am glad you managed to ensure I kept my scarf, I am still awfully curious." Eduard watched as the Russian tugged at his scarf meaningfully. The Estonian gulped; it had indeed been wise to make sure the scarf remained untouched.

"W-well, sir, after the… incident at the restaurant you began to feel ill. After throwing up into a trashcan I managed to bring you to the car. As I was driving you back to the hideout you, um, passed… out… sir. I took you to the hospital and we had your stomach pumped. I'm pretty sure it was because of the poisoned cake. Since then you have been asleep. For two days, and now you've woken up," Eduard finished, somewhat lamely.

Ivan was looking away, absorbing the information and turning it over in his mind. Fascinating. How could he have been so foolish as to let his guard down when he had been looking directly into the lion's maw? It must have been a ploy of that Mister Williams, a front to lure him into a false sense of security. He had been so cowed by the mask that he had neglected there being the demon hiding behind. A demon, who had somehow managed to psychologically trick Ivan into eating the cake! It all made sense now the Russian thought with a chuckle which reverberated in his chest like a drum. He had been beaten, face to face, with the battlefield being a cake of all things! His foe had taken refuge in audacity, and had escaped scot-free.

"I see, I see. I do indeed. Eduard," The Estonian jumped, gulping in fear at the summons. "It would seem we have been beaten. There is no shame in admitting that, for our foes were far beyond our own skills. It has been a long time since I have truly been defeated, as the case is, and they are no doubt long gone."

"You're… not mad, sir?"

Ivan chuckled aloud, the sound an eerie and grating kolkolkol. "No, there is no purpose in flying into a rage here Eduard. This was a contest of wits I have failed; clearly this Matthew and Yong-soo are more brilliant than I could have ever thought. They are in a league of their own, and I? I have been foolish enough to think I could match their skills. But one day, I will look at their faces with respect and glee as they either become one with me, or I grind them into dust. And then, I will smile." And Ivan did just that, a disturbing sight where his brow lowered and his eyes seemed to take on a more scarlet hue. Both Baltic men bearing witness shifted at the almost otherworldly menace Ivan radiated at that moment, his smiling face maintaining that certain childish glee that screamed in the subconscious that something was wrong, bleeding into the mind and tainting it with an inexplicable fear that made the temperature in the room seem to fall with early winter.

Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and Ivan was merely happily smiling, as he always did. "So, did anything else happen while I was asleep? Eduard? Raivis?"

"Um. I, uh, just saw Natalia downstairs at the information desk," Raivis ventured meekly, explaining his initial entrance sheepishly.

Ivan's smile fell into a look of horror, his formerly menacing appearance fleeing in the wake of the news to be replaced with bowel crushing terror. "D… Did you say Na… Na… Natalia?" Ivan demanded shakily.

They say speak of the devil and he shall appear. All eyes travelled to the doorknob of the room as it rattled, the lock quivering in fear of failing and unleashing what was on the other side. Mouths fell agape and the trio recoiled slightly, their arms already rising to their faces with terror as a dull, agonizing scraping of wood replaced the metallic rattle of the doorknob, a chilling voice following suit.

"Broooother, broooother. Are you in there brother? Why did you not call me? I was looking for you for so long. Do you know how much I was worried when I found out you were in the hospital? You didn't have to go so far. I would gladly take care of you, nurse you back to health. Why is the door locked? Don't worry brother, I'm coming in. You'll be good as new after I nurse you back to health. Then we can be together forever.

Forever!

FOREVER!"

Ivan jerked away from his stupefaction, grabbing at the latch of the window. He yanked, muscles bulging from fear as he pulled on the small clasp. "I-Ivan's not heeeeere, you have wrong room!" He fairly screamed in a falsetto tone as he continued his desperate work. Then, with a crack of eulogy the handle he had been trying to force broke off. Ivan stared at the broken scrap of metal, his face blank for a moment. What is this? What's in my hand? His mind had fallen short, and when it caught up his violet eyes widened in fear once more. A second crack, far louder than the first sounded as the door was kicked open. Edaurd and Raivis stared in horror at the woman in the blue and white dress on the other side, her chest heaving at the exertion of forcing her entrance upon them, but her lips were lit with a smile, a sickening one that did not come from joy but from some more primal, dark recess of the soul. All three men could only stare, terror gagging them.

Natalia looked up, her eyes sharp as knives and her fingers twitching in expectancy to grab, to throttle, to hold and never let go.

"I'm heeeeere."

Then the screaming started.

()()()

Arthur smiled lightly as he leaned against his seat in the airport, the muffled voice over the intercom sounding out incomprehensible gibberish, which joined the general noise from the hubbub of conversation filling the building. Though Arthur had failed his mission, such as it were, he nevertheless couldn't help but feel happy. A strange thing he supposed, but at the same time it was only natural. He had seen his son, yet it wasn't his little Willy anymore. No, no, Willy had grown, far more than Arthur had honestly expected. The Englishman was unsure if he regretted ignoring the boy as he had, yet at the same time he wondered if Matthew would be as he was if Arthur hadn't. Who knew what trouble his Willy would have gotten into if he had taken a firmer hand, or any hand at all? Still, the boy had survived Ivan, Gilbert, Alfred and whoever else had come after him. So maybe, just maybe, Arthur hadn't handled his Willy too badly after all. Nevertheless, he should probably pay more attention to his son from now on. Maybe he'd play some cricket with the boy when he got back.

A thrumming feeling in his back pocket drew the Englishman's attention. Curious, he reached behind himself and pulled forth a small device from his back pocket, its long form vibrating in his palm expectantly. Arthur flipped open the cellphone, drawing it next to his ear.

"Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"Agent 006. You're country needs you," A voice, far too deep to come from the throat of a human being, declared.

"Willing and able," Arthur answered instantly, smiling confidently. Oh well, he supposed he'd have to play with his Willy another time.

()()()

"We were very glad you agreed to assist us. We had been hoping to hire your services for some time, but had quite the difficulty even finding you," So said the suited man walking alongside Ludwig.

The German, for his part, merely rolled his shoulders experimentally, his blue eyes flicking over the depressingly plain cement walls illuminated by the crackling fluorescent lights hanging over head, committing to memory every corner as he habitually did. "I was busy with another job. It required my full attention. It's over now, so I supposed I should get back in the game," Ludwig replied crisply.

This was a lie, of course. But the German knew that to tell the man that he was in dire need of funding would only be inviting disaster. His house was in shambles; his bank account drained just paying for the damages, as his insurance merely covered acts of God, not Gilbert. Not to mention that, unsurprisingly, he had been kicked out of the apartment complex. With every fibre of his being, Ludwig cursed Gilbert. They say you can choose your friends but not your family. The German could only wonder why, why by the grace of God he was cursed to both be a follower of that golden rule, and at the same time the exception. But Ludwig did not complain, save for his musings within the pages of his journal (which was also destroyed alongside the rest of his home, somewhat ironically).

It was not that he hated his brother and Feliciano, it was simply that – at times – he needed a break from their very trying demands.

Still, he supposed babysitting Feliciano was not all bad. The German instantly shook his head before he could continue along that train of thought, garnering a curious look from the man at his side.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine." Ludwig answered; perhaps a tad too quickly judging by the way the other man's eyes remained on him for a long moment afterwards. Fortunate then that the hall ended in a door moments later, Ludwig's companion clasping the brass doorknob before hesitating, glancing to the German standing expectantly at his side. "You should know, we hired some additional assistance for this job. We felt it prudent, considering its value to our organization. Would you have any problems with that?"

"No, I can't see why," Ludwig answered with a shrug of his shoulders. Who knows, it might even be a pleasant experience. The men from this particular organization that the blonde had worked alongside before had all been professional, upright individuals to whom he could easily function alongside and relate to. Ludwig felt himself smile slightly, how ironic that it was a mission that likely put his life in jeopardy that he would find relaxation, as opposed to a day at home. It seemed things were finally looking up for him.

"That's good to hear, they're just inside," His employer declared happily as he opened the door to the next room.

"Hey West! You got a job here too? Awesome!"

"Ve! Ludwig, Ludwig! I'm a contact!"

Ludwig had always known God hated him.

()()()

You can tell much from a person by those innocuous things they do, observances and actions they themselves put little stock in, yet betray volumes in their innocence. Let us take the folding of clothes, for instance. Perhaps by the practiced motions one falls back upon the subconscious, that murky depth from which the inner realities of people are drawn forth, secrets hidden perhaps even from themselves.

Then there are people like Alfred, where there is no mystery to be gleaned from the haphazard and chaotic way he goes about throwing his clothes into a suitcase, packing as if the plane he is to catch leaves in five minutes rather than five hours. After all, Alfred is a man in constant motion, always moving forward and rarely, if ever, looking back.

Kiku, on the other hand, stood on the other end of the spectrum. His packing was meticulous and slow. Each article in his bag had its proper place, folded so acutely the edges appeared sharp enough to dice vegetables. Looking into the Japanese man's bag, you would think he had first drawn a blueprint for its placement. For such opposites, it was a mystery how they had not killed each other long ago.

"Come ooooon Kiku, hurry up!"

"Alfred-san, the plane does not leave for some time. We have no need to rush," Kiku admonished calmly, folding a shirt into a neat square with a few practiced motions.

"But you're just going sooo slow. It's like, you're moving like molasses, or honey or… or… something really slow! I only took about five minutes and you're… Just… why?" Alfred asked, moving his arms about frantically in a lifting and carrying motion, trying vainly to impart the impact of his incredulity at the Japanese man's process.

"It is a very precise process Alfred-san. I will not be much longer." Kiku informed his companion stonily.

"…This is payback isn't it?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Alfred eyed Kiku suspiciously. "You remember, for that groping thing."

"I have no idea what you are speaking of, Alfred-san," Kiku answered with the speed of honesty, or the rehearsed lie. Alfred peered at the other man suspiciously for a moment, wondering if it had been a trace of smugness he had heard in that ever polite voice.

At length the American sighed and fell backwards onto the bead, arms thrown out at his sides carelessly as he sank into the downy mattress. "Whatever. Still, kinda cool that we actually got to meet those guys, considering what happened the last time we did. Hey, hey Kiku." Alfred began with a trace of humour in his tone, propping himself upon his side to gaze at his partner. "Didn't that Matthew guy look a lot like me?"

"There was a resemblance, yes," Kiku readily agreed.

"I know right." Alfred sighed regretfully as he lay back down. "I should have tried to recruit him. He would have been the perfect double." Kiku made an agreeing hum to the statement, depositing another shirt into his suitcase. Both were silent for a long moment after that, Alfred lost within the labyrinth that was his mind while Kiku, who had come to terms long ago that the American had lost his mind, focused on his folding.

"I wonder… if I kissed him would it be like, kissing myself?"

"…Wait, what?"

()()()

Tino had always liked heights, and it was hard to get much higher than upon a plane, flying across the sky like a shooting star, off to shores unknown. Perhaps it had something to do with his former/current career as a sniper. Heights were his friend during those days that he plied that particular trade, and after the whole debacle involving that briefcase in which he had been bereft of the need to do so, it was nice to be high again. The Finn felt himself melt into his seat, faint smile playing on his lips as he glanced out the window at the rolling skyline. Tino's smile widened a little more when he spotted a cloud that, in its white fluff, resembled his dog, Hana-Tamago. He wondered how he was doing; it had been some time since he had seen him.

Tino laughed softly at the directions his mind was moving along, earning him a glance from Berwald at his side. It had been quite a while since such mundane thoughts had danced gaily through his mind. Yet he found he couldn't help it. At that moment, seated comfortably as he soared through heavens, everything was just so peaceful, so quiet, so… so…

Tino shot up in his seat.

"Holy crap we forgot Matthias!"

()()()

It was a strange feeling not to be the source of a great many people attention, Matthew had begun to realize. Not odd in the sense that it was a necessarily missed like an old friend. More as in an illness one has suffered beneath for a long time, grinding them down day after day with its annoying and insistent presence. Then, out of the blue, it is gone, and though relieved, one cannot help but notice its absence, and fear it may one day return. Such was the sort of mind Matthew found himself of, standing in the Berlin airport and waiting for Yong-soo to return from a nearby Starbucks. The Canadian sighed, shifting his weight upon the rigid plastic seat bolted to the floor in an attempt to find comfort, vain effort though it was. Ever since they had first set out for the airport Yong-soo had been acting at odds with his normal demeanour. Normally enthusiastic and clingy, the Korean had been oddly distant and quiet. The only time he had seemed enthused was when he had offered to get something from the Starbucks, and proclaiming it was his 'treat' no less! It was, to be utterly frank, disquieting.

"I'm back!" Matthew was shaken from his thoughts by the cry. Looking up he instantly spotted his Korean compatriot jogging towards him, a pair of steaming cups in hand with that telltale green and white label from Starbucks barely visible between his fingers. "I know it's not Tim Horton's but you'll get over it."

Matthew smiled slightly, accepting the cup. "I'm sure. Thanks." The Korean simply smiled faintly and took a seat next to his friend, a silence falling over them like a veil. Once again the Canadian found himself fidgeting, index fingers drumming upon the thick paper of the cup as he considered. He wanted to ask if anything was the matter with his friend, yet at the same time did not wish to appear to be forcing the Korean to talk if he didn't want to.

Matthew sighed and steeled himself. If it must be done then let it be done quickly. "Hey, Yong-soo…"

"This wasn't much of a vacation, was it?" The Korean interrupted, his tone abnormally subdued.

"Eh?"

"I mean, it sort of started off okay, then we got into all this mess. It just… I don't know, got out of hand, I suppose. What I'm trying to say Matthew is that, I'm sorry… I guess." Matthew could only stare at his friend in awe. Yong-soo never apologized. Never! It was as if he had some sort of grudge against it, avoiding having to do so in the most roundabout ways imaginable.

"I..." Matthew lapsed into a silence, unsure what to do. Finally he sighed, kicking back and staring at the ceiling as if searching the heavens for the right thing to say.

After several tense minutes of organizing his thoughts, the Canadian tilted his head towards Yong-soo. "Well, it's not all your fault, I guess. I wasn't exactly helping when I had that thing slapped onto my wrist." He finally admitted.

"I guess, but still…"

"Yong-soo, its fine. It's over and done with, whatever. Let's just move on. It's not like I really blame you, it was just becoming a big thing and I kind of became snappish. So, just forget about."

"Really?" Yong-soo asked tentatively, his head bowed slightly forward as if in prayer that it was true.

The Canadian smiled. "Really."

"Great! No take backs," Yong-soo cheered as if he had just won the lottery, suddenly jumping up and shoving a finger in a shocked Matthew's face. Surely, that hadn't all been but an act? "But still, I do feel kind of bad." The Korean continued carelessly, a fiendish smile painting his lips. "Tell you what, how about we have a do over."

"A… A do over? What, uh… What would that mean, exactly?"

"Just that, a do over vacation da-zee! We go somewhere else to have the vacation we missed out on here. I have some family in China that we can visit, they probably know some great places to go see. Come on, it'll be fun."

Matthew was silent for a moment. To be sure he would appreciate having an actual moment of downtime, a period of grace to be enjoyed after the torture he had suffered through. Something that would serve to take his mind off of recent events would be well received.

Matthew smiled slightly, his mind made up. "Sure, what the hell."

"Really!"

"Yeah, why not. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?" The Canadian asked, smiling obliviously to his friend.

And as we have said before, such statements are what make famous last words.

**And that, ladies and gentlemen, is truly the end of this story. A sequel? Who knows, I'm certainly not telling. **

**I learned a lot from this sordid tale, improved significantly in writing since the beginning and also in my ideas in terms of plot. Seriously, looking back at the earliest chapters I don't know whether to laugh or bang my head on my desk. But I would like to know your thoughts, not only of this chapter but of the story at large. So please, leave a review, I appreciate every one sent and cannot put into words how it inspires me to know people read my work and feel like commenting on it.**

**Thank you all one last time for reading this story. I hope to see you next time.**


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